


Barrisco Month 2015

by greenglowsgold



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 'Our Suit(s)', (which for me are more like oneshots), 2x05 Established Relationship, Barry/Cisco/Iris OT3, Blind Date, Body Swap, Cisco/Barry/Patty OT3, Fake Dating, High Scool AU (sort of), Legends of Today/Yesterday spoilers, M/M, Meeting the Relatives, Movie Night, Post-S1 Established Relationship, Prank Wars, Soulmate AU, Theater AU, Trust Issues, coffee shop AU, daily drabbles, dark!AU, izombie crossover, switching powers, topics include:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 41,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenglowsgold/pseuds/greenglowsgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "daily" drabble challenge (or however many days I actually manage to do it) for the month of December. All Barrisco, all the time. That's my jam.</p><p>Day 6 - Switching Powers - Cisco swallowed and stepped back, trying to look as innocent as possible. ’That’s right,’ he thought, ’just me. Friendly ol’ Cisco who wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less terrorize the entire city over a fifteen-year grudge.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1 - Fake Dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did play around with this trope a bit. Not that it isn't a perfect trope already.

“I think you should go with him.” Caitlin scrunched up her face immediately after speaking, as if she wasn’t sure she should have said it.

Cisco blinked. “Uh, okay. Why?”

“He needs backup. Undercover is not his usual style.”

“Hey!” Barry interjected. “I did just fine pretending to be a criminal in front of Snart’s dad!”

“That was one person; this is a party with at least a hundred,” Caitlin said, frowning Barry into silence before she turned back. “I’d go, but I need to be here, working on the antidote for the previous victims. And he’s already seen Iris.” She gestured to Iris, who nodded reluctantly. “So that just leaves you. You can be the plus one; couples at parties look less conspicuous than lone guys floating around, anyway.”

“Wait, a couple? Cait…”

“It’ll be fine! You’ll just—”

“No, Cait, I mean, I thought you were saying I should sneak in with the staff or something. I don’t exactly have a fancy tux lying around.”

“Oh, is that all,” she sighed.

Cisco raised an eyebrow. What else would it be?

Iris shook her head. “It’s not a problem, anyway. Oliver managed to get us the invite, I’m sure he can find a suit in your size before this evening.”

Like anything _that_ guy had lying around would even come close to fitting Cisco. Whatever, he’d make something work. Cisco shrugged. “Alright, then.”

“Great. Excellent.” Caitlin was moving, winding around them like she was checking things off an invisible list. Half her mind was probably already back on the antidote, which, really, was where it should be. “All you have to do is just keep an eye on him, Barry. Keep him there, make sure he doesn’t do anything else until I have the way to cure him and the people he’s already touched.”

“I’m going to look like a creep, following him around,” Barry complained.

Cisco patted his shoulder. “Dude, that’s what I’m for: blending in. Plus, if you grab me his handkerchief or something, we can keep a little more distance. I can always vibe for him if we lose track.”

Quicker than should be humanly possible (but much, much slower than was possible for him), Barry whirled on him, looking mildly pissed. “We’re tracking a metahuman who can make people dangerously ill after a second of skin contact and your plan is to _touch his stuff_?”

_Well,_ Cisco thought, _when you put it that way…_

“You shouldn’t even be within arm’s reach of this guy,” Barry continued firmly. “We won’t need any visions if we can just keep him in our line of sight.”

Okay, maybe he should have let that one go, but Cisco’s powers were still brand-spanking-new and kind of a sore point for him. He was proposing that he actually be _useful_ , and Barry was going to suggest he just take the backseat? “And what am I supposed to do while you’re keeping watch, then? Hold your punch? Slow dance?”

“Cisco, stop,” Caitlin chastised. “I already told you: you’ll help him blend in.”

“Trust me, Barry just wanders around the edges like a lost puppy if he’s alone at a party.” Iris rolled her eyes like she’d seen it a million times before. She probably had. Cisco had to remember to ask her about school dances sometime when Barry wasn’t glaring daggers at her. “Somebody has to stick with him and make sure he looks normal. Hold his hand.” She paused. “Er, metaphorically.”

“And literally,” Cisco added, “if we’re going as a couple.”

“Right.” Caitlin bit at her lip, glancing between the two of them. “Are you two going to be alright with this? I mean, I know I said this was the only option, but it might not be a good idea unless you guys are completely comfortable with, well…”

Cisco scoffed. Sure, high society wasn’t exactly his natural environment, but he could fake it well enough, and so could Barry. He turned to share a laugh and found Barry giving him a searching look, like he was trying to size Cisco up and decide… Oh, hell, no. Cisco knew that look.

“I’m _going_.”

“It might be safer if you didn’t,” Barry said, predictably. He could enter the freaking Olympics if they had a category for professional worrywarts. “He won’t be able to touch me; he’d have to work pretty hard to even try. But you—”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to hang onto me,” Cisco said.

Barry blushed lightly, but it didn’t keep the frown off his face. “I don’t know about this.”

“Well, I do. We’re going,” Cisco repeated, this time turning to Caitlin and Iris to make it final.

Iris held up her hands in surrender. “Never said you shouldn’t.”

“Don’t worry, you can do this,” Caitlin assured them. “You’re both… decent actors.” Her face did that squinty thing again.

“Barry’s performance in ‘Beauty and the Beast’ notwithstanding,” Iris added.

“Hey!” Barry complained. “That was _middle school_.”

Caitlin didn’t acknowledge the interruption. “And I think you can both be professional enough to get through one fake date and then come home and reassert your heterosexuality in societally appropriate ways. Okay?”

“Wait,” Cisco said, glancing to find Barry mirroring his own confused expression. “What—”

But Caitlin was already walking out, tapping away at her tablet. “Good luck!”

“I should go fill in my dad,” Iris said, also turning away. “See you tonight.”

The room was empty another moment later.

“What the hell?” Barry muttered, voicing both of their thoughts. “‘Reassert your…’ What does she even mean?”

“I just realized she implied that she or Iris would be a better choice for your date over me.” Cisco considered how offended he should be that he wasn’t Caitlin’s first thought. She’d never seemed like the kind of person who would have a problem with that, but…

“Holy shit,” Barry breathed suddenly, eyes wide as saucers and still staring at the doorway through which the girls had vanished.

“I know, right, it’s just weird.”

“No, Cisco, _holy shit_.” Barry grabbed his arm, and turned his eyes reluctantly away from the door to face him. “They _don’t know we’re dating._ ”

Cisco laughed, raising an eyebrow. “C’mon, dude. It’s been like two months and you _know_ we’re not sneaky.”

“No, really. Did you hear them? They actually have no idea.”

“No, but.” Cisco frowned. “We definitely told them we…” He thought back. “Or at least…” How had the conversation gone, again? Oh. OH. “Holy shit.” This was terrible… No, wait, this was awesome.

“Right?” Barry giggled, a little hysterically. “Oh, crap, Iris is gonna think I was lying to her again. I thought they all _knew_.”

Cisco put a finger to Barry’s lips to stop the babbling. “We have been awarded a rare opportunity, my friend, the likes of which we may never see again. Come on, we’ve gotta get suited up.”

“What? Cisco…”

“Leave it to me, babe.” Cisco leaned up a little to lay a quick kiss on Barry’s cheek, then took his hand to lead him in the direction of formal clothes, grinning. “They’re not gonna know what hit them.”


	2. Day 2: Cisco's Oral Fixation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked at this prompt and said, "how are you supposed to write that one without getting immediately smutty?"
> 
> "Challenge accepted," my brain said.
> 
> Have a PG-rated drabble for day 2 of Barrisco month!

Harry took one look at the cortex coated entirely in a thick layer of confetti, turned around, and refused to participate in the prank war at all. That was alright; they had plenty of other people playing.

Joe was the next to drop out, because even though he enjoyed having some fun, he did have a job to do elsewhere. Caitlin called it quits after she managed to get every squirrel in the tri-county area to latch onto Barry using some homemade pheromone solution, insisting she was going out strong. Jax gleefully helped out with a particularly tricky prank involving post-it notes when he and Stein stopped by for a weekend, but he was gone by Monday. That left just Barry, Iris, and Cisco battling it out in an increasingly high-stakes competition.

Computers were reprogrammed, ringtones were changed, and the Flash suit turned briefly green in a move that Iris swore was targeted toward Barry, though Cisco took it personally nonetheless. He retaliated with a by sneaking into her office one night and covering her workstation with pictures of Bruno Mars. Barry wasn’t around to see the fallout from that one, but apparently Linda laughed for ten straight minutes.

Barry himself tended to use his speed to his advantage (something that the others had complained more than once was cheating, but Barry kept doing it anyway), but this time he’d decided to test out some of his chemistry skills in response to a pretty spectacular move on Cisco’s part involving Craigslist. He tried his best not to look unbelievably suspicious while he stood by the desk and tapped his fingers against the surface, waiting.

A minute later, Cisco came bounding in, looking very determined. “Okay, I think I’ve got the disc fixed now, so we should be able to isolate the signal…” He threw himself down into a chair and grabbed the mouse for the nearest computer, clicking away madly as he navigated the program. Even though his attention was focused on the screen, his free hand reached idly and automatically for the pencil lying on the desk beside the keyboard. Just like it always did.

Barry held his breath.

“If I can get this working I’m gonna link it up with everybody’s phones; we should all be getting notifications if it goes off and— Aaaugh, what the hell!” Cisco whipped the pencil out of his mouth, staring at it with stunned eyes.

Barry grinned and his fist punched the air. Success! Cisco had picked up the doctored pencil, because he always did, and he’d stuck the end in his mouth, because he always did, because he was absolutely incapable of not chewing on whatever was in his hands at any given moment. Only this time, the thing in his hands tasted like very strong hot sauce.

“Screw you,” Cisco grumbled good-naturedly as Barry did a little dance around the cortex, whooping in triumph.

 

 

 

It was a week later when they officially declared Iris the winner. She’d hidden a tiny mechanical bug in the ceiling tiles, which emitted warning beeps so softly and so infrequently that they all considered whether they were going crazy for two full days before they managed to find it. After that, they decided it was better to end things if they were planning on getting anything else done in the near future.

Now, really, Barry shouldn’t be blamed for forgetting about something he’d set up days ago.

Also, he did try to warn Cisco, he just thought of it _way_ too late, and the lollipop was already too far gone. Cisco’s whole face scrunched up the moment it touched his tongue, and he pulled it back out for an assessing look. “Hmm.” He licked his lips, considering. “Cinnamon?”

Barry nodded, eyes fixed on the bright green candy and not on Cisco’s face, so that he almost missed when Cisco shrugged. He did not miss Cisco popping the lollipop back into his mouth with a contented hum.

“What?” Cisco asked when he found Barry staring at him. “I _like_ cinnamon. Wasn’t expecting it, but hey, it’s cool.”

Barry considered this.

 

 

 

Officially, yes, the prank war was over, but Barry didn’t consider what he was doing to be in contrast with that, especially when Cisco seemed totally fine with it. There were certainly plenty of opportunities available; nothing dampened that guy’s oral fixation.

Barry alternated between doctoring the candy and adding something to various pens, pencils, and the occasional screwdriver handle. Once, and he was very proud of this, he even managed to sneak something onto Cisco’s hand without him noticing, so that the next time Cisco went to nibble at his fingernails, he was shocked by the sudden taste of citrus. He’d winked in Barry’s direction even as he assured Caitlin that no, he was fine, keep talking about the metahuman they’d found this week.

It was just so much fun, Barry didn’t stop to consider why he was enjoying it so much (though if he had to guess, he’d say it was either the expressions on Cisco’s face or the fact that he still didn’t even hesitate to grab a piece of candy). He experimented with some less common tastes, but sometimes the classics worked just as well, if they were unexpected.

Cisco made a face at the gum he’d started on while fixing up Barry’s communicator. “Seriously, man? Banana?”

“What? I like banana.”

“I don’t. There’s a reason they only use it on like, two brands of candy. It’s gross.”

Barry held up his hands, leaning into the desk beside where Cisco was sitting. “Okay, okay. Noted.”

“It’s just unnatural,” Cisco continued, though he was still working the gum around his mouth. Some kind of morbid curiosity, Barry assumed. “I mean, it doesn’t even taste like real banana. Ugh. But whatever it is, my whole mouth tastes like it, now.”

“Well, I like it,” Barry said again, and without thinking, leans in to taste it himself, since Cisco isn’t appreciating it properly.

He has his mouth pressed firmly against Cisco’s and his tongue had swept across the banana-infused lips before he fully registered what he was doing. He froze.

Then he realized that he had frozen while he was still unexpectedly kissing his best friend, which wasn’t helpful, and jerked backwards. Cisco was staring at him.

“Um, right,” Barry stuttered, when Cisco didn’t say anything. “So, I guess I’ll just. Yeah…”

Barry left. At normal speed, in case Cisco wanted to call him back and yell at him, which Barry figured was his right at this point, but he didn’t say a word.

 

 

 

By unspoken agreement, they both went back to business as usual, except that Barry stopped sticking random flavors on Cisco’s things. Instead of waiting around to watch Cisco’s reaction to the unexpected tastes, he spent more time just running around the city, looking for random crime. It was a better use of his time.

Barry tried not to worry about it (he’d already messed things up, it wasn’t like he could go back and fix it, so worrying was pointless) or overanalyze it (he’d wanted to kiss Cisco, so he’d kissed Cisco, it was actually pretty simple). He was fairly unsuccessful on both counts. Good thing there were plenty of metahumans running around committing crimes to keep him busy.

No, wait, did he say ‘good thing’? Crap, he had to get a handle on this.

With the theory that things might get back to normal quicker if he stopped avoiding Cisco so much, Barry purposefully hung around after the latest group discussion on how to deal with Zoom, trying not to pace anxiously as he counted down five minutes, he had to at least be able to be alone in a room with Cisco for five minutes without bursting into a fiery ball of shame. Cisco was even making it easy on him, just focusing on the computer and sucking on a jolly rancher.

_Three minutes,_ Barry thought to himself.

Cisco cleared his throat. Oh, no.

“You know,” he said carefully, speaking around the candy in his mouth. It clicked against his teeth between words. “The regular flavors are kinda weird now, actually.”

Okay, that seemed safe… ish. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I haven’t gotten tequila or molasses in a while, now. Kinda miss it; it was like Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.”

Barry chuckled. “Well, what flavor do you have now?”

“Green apple.” With a crunching noise, Cisco bit down on whatever was left of the candy, swallowing the remains. He paused, staring at the keyboard, then opened his mouth. “Do you… want a taste?”

“But you already…” Barry’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Cisco said, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” Barry echoed, and moved. Green apple. He liked that flavor.

 


	3. Day 3: Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here lies the product of my frustration that I had to wait nearly twenty hours to watch yesterday's Arrow episode. Spoilers for both Flash 2x8 'Legends of Today' and Arrow 4x8 'Legends of Tomorrow'.

Cisco chucked a paper clip at the trash can. He made a face when it just bounced off the rim and fell to the floor. “Must be nice,” he muttered to himself.

“What’s that?” Barry said from behind him.

Cisco didn’t turn his chair around. It figured. “You heard that?”

“Uh, yep.”

“Oh.” He tossed another paper clip. This one went in, joining about thirty of its lucky brethren. He was going to run out of projectiles, soon.

Barry cleared his throat. “So, what must be nice?”

“The soulmate thing. All they have to do is hit their twenties, one of them remembers, and then, bam! Love of a lifetime.” He scoffed. “Or, like, two hundred lifetimes.”

Another paper clip bounced to the floor. Cisco had shitty aim when he was upset.

“She’s going with him, then?”

Nodding, Cisco reached for the second to last clip in the box. “She doesn’t even _like_ him, but she loves him.” Miss. “I mean, it’s cool. Not really, but sort of, it’s her decision anyway, it just… sucks.”

Barry watched the final paper clip vanish into the can, then there was a blur of motion and Cisco found that the entire pile had been picked up and moved back onto the desk.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Cisco nodded, but didn’t make a move to pick up another clip.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I went back in time again yesterday? We could talk about that,” Barry offered, leaning against the desk beside him.

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Vibes, dude,” Cisco reminded him. “I felt the disturbance in the force.” Though, ‘disturbance’ was an understatement. More like, him and everyone else in the entire city getting disintegrated in a second, but if he started talking about that, he’d feel pretty shitty for whining about a breakup, and he wanted at least a few more minutes of feeling sorry for himself.

“I would’ve mentioned it sooner,” Barry said, chagrined. “But I was busy. If it helps, I totally told you first when I realized I was _going_ to time-jump. The first time around that day.”

Cisco shrugged. He didn’t care about that. Okay, he cared a little, but he wasn’t going to make a big thing out of it. “Whoever you talked to, I’m just glad things went better the second time around.”

“Couldn’t have gone much worse,” Barry mumbled. “You know, it seems like every time I mess up, you end up dying.”

Cisco looked up at him. That had been a particularly poor attempt at pretending to sound casual, and seriously, Cisco did not want to talk about this right now. Really. He reached over and squeezed Barry’s arm. “You always fix it, though. My heart’s still beating and everything.”

Barry’s hand moved over his for just a second, but Cisco knew enough to feel the fingers brush by his pulse point, if only briefly. “That’s my job.”

Right, Cisco reminded himself, and pulled his hand back. Just his job. “I guess it’s nice to know Kendra’s gonna have someone watching out for her, too, from now on. And he’s, like, laser-focused on her, so that’s cool. She’ll be fine, right?”

“‘Course,” Barry assured him. “You’ve seen him fight, right? He kicks ass.”

“Good.” Cisco sighed. “You ever wonder what it’d be like to have someone like that? I mean, a soulmate is a _guarantee_. A partner. Forever.”

When he didn’t get an answer right away, Cisco glanced over. Barry wasn’t moving, just staring at him. Hard.

“Shit, sorry,” Cisco said quickly. “I know, I’m having a hard enough time wrapping my own head around it; didn’t mean to break your brain.”

“Uh, no.” Barry snapped out of it, shaking his head hard. “I wasn’t…”

“I should go, anyway,” he continued. “Got a date with some ice cream and a Star Wars marathon.” He pushed himself up from the chair, trying to remember where he’d left his coat, or if he’d even brought a coat today. Oh, forget it, no one was going to take it if he left it overnight. “G’night, Barry.”

“Cisco…” Barry tried, but Cisco was already walking out of the room. He might feel like shit about it tomorrow, but tonight…

He needed to be alone.

 


	4. Day 4: Theater AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fairly loose definition of the word "theater." But hey, all the world's a stage.

Barry was so excited he thought he might puke. Okay, hopefully not really, but he did have a bit of a weak stomach, as Iris had teased him about so many times before. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t had breakfast before coming to The Meeting.

Yes, capital letters.

Because it was his first ever, very official, super awesome, Central City Public Improv Group Meeting. He’d wanted to get in with these guys ever since they’d invaded the mall in Attack on Titan gear while he’d been doing his Christmas shopping. Finally, a friend of a friend had offered him an in, and here he was: standing in a room with about forty other people who looked like the sort of aggressively random group you couldn’t come up with if you tried. The guy standing next to him had pink hair, and the girl next to him had hers completely covered with a scarf. The guy on Barry’s other side was…

Damn. The guy on Barry’s left was _super_ attractive. Even as he thought that, the guy turned to see him staring. “Hey. You’re new?”

Barry nodded, mouth dry.

“I’m Cisco,” the guy said, sticking out his hand.

Barry met it halfway, hardly daring to believe his luck that the cute guy was friendly, too. “Barry. How long have you been doing this?”

Cisco shrugged. “‘Bout a year, but it never gets old. The things these guys come up with, seriously. I mean, fighting Titans at the mall? Classic.”

A laugh broke out of Barry’s throat. “You were there?”

“I rigged up all the gear for that one, man! Those 3D maneuvering devices wouldn’t have looked _nearly_ as realistic without my help. That’s why they keep me around, you know. I’m the tech guy.”

“Huh.” Barry wondered if he could come up with some unique contribution of his own, something that made them want to keep _him_ around, too, even after this particular event. He’d have to think about that later. “How’d you do the propulsion? It’d looked really good.”

Cisco nodded toward the front of the room, where one of the members was starting to take charge of the many conversations. “Tell you later? Maybe we’ll grab a coffee?”

Barry had to take a deep breath. Stay calm, Barry. Make Iris proud. Don’t give her another story to tease you about. “Sure.”

 

 

 

They were at the waterfront, and Barry was trying his best not to look conspicuous as hell. Cisco looked way more natural, leaning an arm across the back of the bench and tapping a foot to no particular rhythm that Barry could make out.

“Seen any good movies this weekend?” Cisco asked, idly watching a couple of kids walk by.

“Um. Yes?”

“Dude, this will go so much easier if you just act natural.” Cisco shook his head. His hair whipped a little in the light breeze. “In fact, don’t even act. Just talk to me. Be normal.”

That, Barry could do. He and Cisco had been on two coffee dates since meeting, and even if nothing had really happened (not in the way Barry had maybe been hoping it would), they at least knew how to talk to each other. “No, I didn’t see any movies.”

Cisco smiled. “Cool, me neither. But I have been wanting to check out that new one with Matt Damon.”

“Oh, yeah! I heard about that one. It should be good; the book was pretty awesome.”

“I haven’t read it,” Cisco admitted.

“Oh, _man._ ”

“I know, I know. It’s an insult to my geek cred, but everyone’s got one or two they just never got around to.”

Barry’s eyes flicked away from Cisco, double-checking their surroundings. Couples walking along the water, teenagers tossing a frisbee, dog running in circles beside that tree, check. Normalcy. “You have to read it.”

“Or I could just watch the movie,” Cisco countered. “And then you could tell me what was wrong with it.”

“I’m gonna do that anyway,” Barry said, turning back to Cisco. “That’s the best part.”

Cisco smiled. “Cool. It’s a date.”

His eyes were golden brown in the sunlight and, Barry would say later, that was why it was absolutely impossible that he _not_ lean in and kiss him.

It only took about 0.2 seconds for Barry to realize that this was probably a _really_ bad plan. He hadn’t even asked if Cisco wanted to kiss him. He should stop. Now.

Except, just as he went to pull away, his phone buzzed against his hip, and he froze.

And so did forty other people, because the universe had terrible, terrible timing.

Technically, they were copying the famous Grand Central prank, so it wasn’t exactly novel, but the group had agreed that the amount of fun they could have outweighed the argument of originality, and they vowed to plan something entirely new next month. For now, there plan was to make one section of Central City stand still for ten minutes, until the second alarm on their phones went off.

 _Ten minutes._ He couldn’t kiss Cisco for ten minutes, no way. Maybe he could just… lean back slowly, and hope no one noticed. Just an inch or so of space between them would make this infinitely less awkward, Barry was sure.

With that in mind, he tried pulling back just a fraction of a centimeter, and instantly felt fingers dig in to the back of his hand, just enough to notice. Was Cisco’s hand there already, or had he moved it to stop Barry from changing position? Probably the first, since Cisco was apparently so committed to the act that he was willing to drag this thing out for minutes on end.

Okay, so, they were doing this.

Barry counted to two hundred in his head.

Cisco’s lips felt _really_ nice.

He wished his eyes were open, at least, so he could see what Cisco looked like, how he felt about this. Maybe he was pissed. Please don’t be pissed.

A girl must have been walking past them, because he could hear her laugh and coo a little over the sight. Did blushing count as movement?

A breeze brushed a lock of Cisco’s hair against his cheek, and then it fell away again.

Barry’s lips were probably getting either really wet or really dry. He didn’t have the brainpower to figure out which.

His phone buzzed again.

Barry pulled back as soon as it did, putting at least a foot of distance between them. He barely even heard the cheers and applause coming from those who hadn’t been in on it. He was just glad he’d gotten _through_ it.

“Oh my God,” Cisco said, and Barry winced. What was that look on his face? Was he upset? “I cannot _wait_ until someone asks how we got together. This is gonna be one hell of a first kiss story.”


	5. Day 5: Soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I wrote a real soulmate au.

Barry only finds out that Cisco is his soulmate when he’s dying.

At first, it’s hard to notice, because it’s really dark in here, but then he realizes that even the few colors that were visible are now fading into a shaky black and white, and he freezes, because he doesn’t know what it means. Or, he doesn’t until he gets a call from Caitlin, who tells him that one of the bees didn’t get Felicity’s shut-down message, and it stung Cisco, and he’s dying.

It’s too much of a coincidence to ignore.

Except, he has to ignore it, because right now he has to worry about how to make Cisco _not_ dead; he can figure out the rest later. By the time he gets there, which can’t be more than three seconds, there isn’t a hint of color left in the world, which is more terrifying than it logically should be, given that he lived the first twenty-six years of his life seeing the same thing. It’s probably the fact that the scene he’s seeing in black in white is: Cisco lying on the ground, Caitlin frantically trying to beat his heart for him, Ray breathing hard with his hands on his head.

Barry lays his hands on Cisco’s chest and send out sparks of bright, pale light, something he’s only seen twice before in his life, and only once since he was ten. At first, he doesn’t think it’s going to work, and he takes a shaky breath as he raises his hands one more time, but then he sees a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, and a second later Cisco takes in a sharp breath. He’s alive.

Color rushes back into Barry’s world so fast he reels from it, and he nearly laughs. There’s no question about it, now.

“Either my fear of bees is over or it just got a whole lot worse,” is what Cisco says first. Not, ‘holy crap, you’re my soulmate.’ Not even, ‘Hey, Barry.’

Not that Barry says anything like that, either. He watches Cisco stand up with Caitlin’s help, wondering why nothing seems to be happening. Does Cisco… not _know_?

No, he has to know, Barry realizes a second later. Barry might have the excuse of waking up from a nine month coma and suddenly finding the world in color, not knowing who could have triggered it. Cisco has to know; has to have seen it when he found Barry in a hospital bed the first time.

Also, he would have experienced the same color-drain when Barry got stung yesterday. No wonder he sounded so wrecked about it. Barry knows how that feels, and it’s awful. So he has to know, and he has to know Barry knows, too. Why isn’t he saying anything? Why hasn’t he said anything for _months_? Just a quick heads-up would have been nice.

“I’ve never had anyone take a bee for me,” Ray says, and Cisco just smiles like it was nothing that important.

“You’re welcome, bro.”

“Cisco,” Barry starts. Cisco turns to look at him, and Barry realizes he has absolutely no clue what he’s going to say. “You’re a hero, man,” is what he eventually comes up with, which is true, but nothing near what he’s thinking.

Cisco groans. “Heroing _hurts_.”

“Let’s get you back to STAR labs.” Caitlin starts guiding Cisco to the van, keeping one hand on his arm the whole way.

Barry should stop him, should demand that they talk, but he doesn’t know how to do it. In contrast, there’s another conversation he’s been avoiding that seems infinitely easier, now. He’ll tackle that one, first.

 

A few hours later, he’s doing just that. Cisco and Caitlin step into the lab at Central City Police Station expecting karaoke, and instead they get Barry and Joe standing next to a cork-board full of information they don’t want to hear.

“That’s impossible,” Caitlin protests, of course.

“Look, Caitlin, it took me a long time to believe it, too, but it’s him.”

“Dr. Wells is a speedster?” She scoffs, like it’s a hilarious notion to even consider. “He’s paralyzed.”

“Is he, though?”

Caitlin spares only a moment for her ‘I’m a _doctor_ ’ look before continuing. “And why would he kill Barry’s mother? It doesn’t make any sense.” She pauses, searching, and turns to the only person in the room who hasn’t said anything since they realized they weren’t getting a casual night out. “Cisco. Say something.”

Cisco takes a breath. He looks… Barry can’t tell what he looks like. “I’ve been having these dreams.”

Something rises up inside Barry’s chest, as unplaceable as the look on Cisco’s face.

“Mostly at night, but sometimes during the day. But they don’t really feel like dreams. They feel real.”

“What happens in the dream?” Barry asks, without actually intending to speak.

“Dr. Wells is the Reverse-Flash.” Cisco swallows. “And…”

“He kills you,” Barry finishes, because he knows, he _knows_ , and he’s wondering whether that feeling of sudden realization is ever going to cut him a break, tonight.

Cisco nods, then looks down. “So it was real.” There isn’t even a hint of surprise that Barry would know when he died.

Caitlin isn’t so calm. “How do you know that?” she demands. “How could you know?”

Because he’d been off dealing with Mardon and Joe and Iris and suddenly the world had shut down around him, faded to gray, and he hadn’t had any idea why, until now. But it makes sense. “I felt it,” he mutters, and a moment later he’s angry. He’s so damn pissed he can’t believe it, because Cisco has died _twice_ without Barry even knowing what he was losing, and Cisco knew all along, and he didn’t say a word. Now Barry knows what to say. “You _asshole_.”

Cisco looks surprised, a little hurt. Well, good.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Barry demands, stalking forward until he’s inches away from Cisco.

“About the dreams?” Cisco says, unbelievably. “I don’t… It’s from when you time-traveled, right? You didn’t tell me I _died_ that day; I just thought I was going crazy! I didn’t know they were real.”

“Not _that_ ,” Barry nearly growls. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?”

Dead silence.

“You didn’t know?” Cisco breathes after a moment. He still hasn’t moved back; there’s almost no space between them. “How the hell…”

“I was in a _coma_. I just woke up and… bam, there it was.”

“Yeah, _there it was_ ,” Cisco repeats. “I was standing right in front of you, Barry.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Barry is aware the Joe is pulling Caitlin reluctantly from the room. He’ll deal with that later. “I thought it was a doctor or something. I mean, I was out for nine months, it could’ve been anyone who walked by, maybe checked my pupils or something. I just figured they couldn’t find me again after I got moved to STAR labs.”

“I was _right there_ ,” Cisco says again, incredulously. “You didn’t think it might be, like, the first person you remembered actually seeing when you woke up?”

Barry cheeks burn. It sounds so reasonable when Cisco says it like that. But Barry’s explanation had sounded reasonable when he came up with it, too. “If it was you, I thought you would have said something.”

Cisco crosses his arms. “And when was I supposed to do that? When you ran out of the lab five minutes after you woke up, or when you came back in panicking about your powers and talking about how you noticed the world slowing down when you were talking to Iris, your best friend and the girl you’ve been in love with your whole entire life?”

It seems like Cisco should be shouting by the end of that, but he’s not. It hits Barry hard, anyway, and he slumps back a little. Had he really said… Probably, yeah, because he never could shut up about Iris. “You still should have said something. Sometime, I don’t know.”

“I thought it was a safe assumption that you knew. I mean, people _always_ know. I knew.”

It’s a fair point. Barry’s wondering himself how he could possibly have missed it, the hint of something no one can ever describe that shows you your soulmate, the piece outside of seeing in color that scientists still can’t explain. He supposes it must have gotten lost somewhere in the haze of waking up from a coma with the opposite of muscle atrophy and the ability to run at hundreds of miles per hour.

“You talked about Iris, and I thought you were telling me that you didn’t want to do the whole soulmate thing, because you already loved someone else.” Cisco shrugs. “It’s not that uncommon; I’ve seen it before.”

Barry laughs. Just a short burst, at first, but then he can’t stop, and he has to step back until he finds a chair to sink into. “Oh, my God.” He didn’t know Cisco was his soulmate because Cisco thought he didn’t want one and decided to be nice about it and keep his distance. He has to laugh, or else he’s going to, like… cry or shout or something.

“You okay?” Cisco asks carefully.

“Give me a minute,” Barry chokes out. “This is new for me.” He’s been thinking the past several months that he might just never meet his soulmate. Or, rather, that he met them, but now he’d never know who they are, because he didn’t know how to find them. And now…

He’s been waiting for his soulmate as long as he can remember, but he’s been in love with Iris for just as long.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because that’s the one thing he knows he has to. “I think I’ve been a jerk for months now.”

Cisco winces. “Yeah, well, I’ve been an idiot, so. I think we’re even.” He clears his throat, takes a tiny step forward, but there’s still several feet between them. “And, in interest of full disclosure, uh, you should probably know that I love you.”

“Oh.” Barry swallows. It’s not exactly a surprise, but it’s not exactly what he was expecting, either. “I—” he starts, and doesn’t know how to finish. He likes Cisco, alot, cares about him, but words like that are going to sound insincere after what Cisco just dropped. "You're my best friend," he finally says. That one means more than it sounds, because Iris held that title for fifteen years, and Cisco knows that.

“But you still love Iris,” Cisco finishes. "It's okay," he continues, when Barry opens his mouth. "That's the part I already knew.”

"Where the hell does that leave us?" Barry's already tired. Where had his energy from just two minutes ago gone?

Cisco shrugs. “We’re talking about it now. Progress?” He sighs. “Look, I didn’t… I don’t expect anything. If you want…” He trails off, but it’s clear.

Barry’s listening to his soulmate tell him to go ahead and go ahead and be with someone else, which is kind of what he wanted… isn’t it? But it feels wrong, so wrong to be hearing it now, coming from _Cisco_ instead of some hypothetical person he’d never yet met. Barry stands up and takes quick steps forward.

When he wraps his arms around Cisco, it isn’t perfect, it takes Cisco a moment to hug him back, but it’s soft and warm and comforting. “You’re important,” Barry whispers into Cisco’s ear, and feels the hug tighten around him.

It’s true. He’s not sure exactly what it means yet, but he’ll figure it out.

 


	6. Day 6: Switching Powers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, did I have fun writing this one. It was hard to stop!

Cisco had never really planned on sharing his powers with his friends. That made him sound like a total jerk, but come on, if he’d walked up to them and said: ‘Hey, guess what? Remember that guy who killed Barry’s mom and who’s been running circles around us for months? Looks like I can pull of the same kind of unnatural speed as he does; isn’t it rad?’ That would make him sound _way_ worse, and totally suspicious. Frankly, he wasn’t even certain himself what that unpleasant connection meant, and he’d like to get a better grip on it before anyone else found out.

That was before some asshole pulled a gun on Barry.

Normally, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Barry was the superhero, after all, who got visions out of nowhere and who could shoot sonic blasts through the air. Cisco was just the tech support guy who’d built him a pretty awesome suit that would stop anything short of a point-blank headshot. The thing about what was happening right now was that Barry hadn’t seen it coming, and he wasn’t wearing the suit.

Some guy had just waltzed right into STAR labs with no warning, while they were all cleaning up from Caitlin’s birthday party the night before. He’d started waving a gun around and yelling about how STAR had ruined his life (which, to be fair, was totally possible) and how he was going to ruin theirs (so not cool).

It caught them all off-guard, but even so, Cisco could see Barry slipping smoothly into hero-mode out of the corner of his eye. He took one step forward, making sure the man’s attention was on him, raising his hands slowly as he went. It looked like an innocent, placating gesture, but Cisco had seen Barry in action enough to know it would be the perfect position from which to launch a vibrational wave that would knock this guy off his feet. It probably would have worked, if the guy hadn't decided in just that moment that he was done talking.

Cisco watched the bullets go by in literal slow-motion, wondering if there was anything else he could do to stop them from hitting Barry in the chest and coming up with nothing. Well, nothing except…

Swearing under his breath and praying he'd be given a chance to explain, Cisco shot toward the bullets. He caught them in their paths a couple of feet away from Barry, still uncomfortably close, and dropped them to the ground, shaking his hands out and wincing. Damn, Superman made it look easy.

Meanwhile, the reflexive blast Barry had sent out when he heard the gun had hit, sending the man flying back into the wall and then to the floor, unconscious. Everyone was quiet for a moment, as the focus shifted from guy-with-a-gun to how-did-Cisco-get-across-the-room-so-fast-and-who-stopped-the-bullets. Cisco saw the exact moment it clicked into place for Barry, saw his eyes widen and his jaw grow tight.

Cisco swallowed and stepped back, trying to look as innocent as possible. ' _That's right,_ ' he thought,' _just me. Friendly ol' Cisco who wouldn't hurt a fly, much less terrorize the entire city over a fifteen-year grudge._ '

When Barry went for Cisco, he didn't move, didn't try to run away even though he could have been all the way outside the building before anyone could blink. He let Barry grab the collar of his shirt and keep moving, slamming him up against the nearest wall. Caitlin was shouting something in the background, but Cisco didn't have the attention to spare to hear what it was: a protestor an encouragement. His world had narrowed to the hand on his collarbone, the face centimeter from his own, the fierce look in Barry's eyes.

"How did you do that?" Barry demanded, in a voice that was no less terrifying for the slight shake to the words.

"You know how," Cisco said softly. "I can run. Fast."

Barry made a strangled sound that tore at Cisco. He'd done this all wrong. He should have known he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret forever, should have found a way to tell them on his own time instead of waiting for it to be forced out of him. Barry should never have had to look at Cisco like this.

"That's not just running fast," Dr. Wells said, and Cisco tore his eyes away from Barry to see how he was taking it. Better than Barry, but that was pretty much a given. Wells looked intrigued, almost excited. Maybe that meant Cisco had a little bit of back-up.

“The explosion affected me, too.” Cisco bit at his lip, unsure what to say. He’d spent all this time worrying about it, but never planned out the conversation. “I should have told you, I know. I just…”

"The Man in Yellow." Barry's eyes were wild, searching. "Are you...?"

"No," Cisco said quickly. "No, dude, come on, I was like eight years old when that jerk killed your mom. You know that couldn't have been me."

"But you could be working with him," Barry countered. His grip tightened to the point of being painful.

He wasn't, of course he wasn't, but he didn't exactly have proof of that ready to go.

"Barry, _stop_." Caitlin appeared suddenly between them, pushing Barry back with both hands. "Of course he's not; how could you think that? Look at him. He just saved your _life_. He's not even defending himself, he's just trying to explain." Oh, good, he was hoping someone would notice that. " _Look_ at him," Caitlin repeated, when Barry only glared at a point around Cisco's knee.

Reluctantly, Barry raised his eyes to meet Cisco's, which was an opportunity that couldn't be ignored.

"I'm not working with him, I _swear_. I would never.” Cisco swallowed. “I found out that I could... l could _go fast_ a few months ago. l should've said something right away, but I just panicked. I didn't want to be... bad."

This wasn't helping. Barry was listening, but he wasn't looking any less betrayed. Cisco stumbled on his own words, then perked up again with a new idea.

“Vibe me!” he said desperately. “Check me out, come on, you’ll see.” He thrust out his arm toward Barry, who took a sharp step backwards, looking at Cisco’s hand like it would poison him if he touched it.

Fuck, that hurt. Worse than Cisco would ever have expected. He pulled his hand back slowly.

In the silence that followed, Dr. Wells was the one to speak up. “Perhaps you should come with me for a minute, Barry. We’ll get some air. Cisco will stay here,” he said firmly, and he may as well have stapled Cisco’s feet to the floor. “We have… a lot to talk about. Soon.”

Cisco watched Wells lead Barry out of the room, leaving him alone with Caitlin. Now that Barry was gone, and with him most of the tension in the room, Cisco had to take a deep breath so he wouldn’t break down and cry. He was screwed; he was so, so screwed. He’d never fix this. He’d tried so hard to keep it a secret, hadn’t used his powers for anything except emergencies (and, okay, a little burst of speed here or there, like if he was late for something as important as a birthday party, but it was a rare exception).

He jumped when Caitlin touched his shoulder. He’d almost forgotten she was still there. “I’m sorry, Cait,” he croaked out through a worn throat. “I’m so, so…”

“Please stop apologizing.” She sighed and drew him into a loose hug. Cisco immediately grabbed her tight, and she mirrored his grip, rubbing a soothing hand down his spine. “Barry hasn’t known you as long as I have. I know you’re a good person, Cisco. I know you.”

Cisco shuddered with relief. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever even believed that himself, not since these powers had shown up, inexplicably months after the explosion, after Barry had told them about a man with the exact same abilities destroying his life when he was ten. But here was Caitlin, declaring with no hesitation at all that she knew he could never do anything bad with them.

"I should have told you," he repeated, muffled into her shoulder.

"That certainly would have made this part easier," she agreed. "But we know now. It'll be okay; he just needs some time." She pulled back enough to look at him. "You could use a little time, too. You should go home, get some rest. I'm sure he'll be ready to listen tomorrow."

Cisco was shaking his head before she'd finished speaking. "Dr. Wells said to stay here. I should—"

"Dr. Wells is a scientist, and it's distracting him right now. I'm a doctor, and I'm telling you to sleep. He can ask you questions tomorrow. I may have some scientific curiosity myself.” She smiled. “It’s actually pretty cool.”

“I guess,” Cisco allowed, calmed for the moment. He let himself fall out of Caitlin’s arms and took a minute to gather himself, trying to remember whether he’d left anything lying around that needed to come home with him. Finally deciding there was nothing so important that forgetting it would be a disaster, and breathing normally again, he said a grateful goodbye to Caitlin and headed for the door.

He went through the halls slowly, feeling no rush. A long walk home would probably do him good, give him some time to think. He was nearly out of the building when he heard voices. Barry. And Dr. Wells.

Cisco ducked behind the corner on instinct. Apparently they hadn’t gone far to have their talk, nor were they keeping quiet about it. He should keep going, duck right past the doorway and head out, give Barry some space, but he just… He couldn’t stop himself from listening, at least. He had to know what Barry was thinking.

“This is a good thing, really,” Wells was saying. “He can help. If his powers are anything like the Man in Yellow—” Cisco winced, and he knew Barry must have, too, “—Cisco can do amazing things. He may even be fast enough to be a match for our enemy.”

Cisco blinked. He’d never thought of that, amazingly. He’d spent so much time worrying about _not_ turning out like the Man in Yellow, he’d never considered that it might actually be an advantage.

“I don’t know,” Barry muttered. “I just…”

“He’s suited for it,” Dr. Wells continued. “Much better suited than yourself, in fact.”

Harsh, Cisco thought, but then Dr. Wells never did sugar-coat anything.

“He could be incredibly useful.”

Cisco wasn’t entirely certain he liked the tone in Wells’ voice. It made him feel a little creepy, to be _useful_. It wasn’t as nice as what Caitlin had said, that he was a good person. Still, Wells was defending him to Barry; Cisco couldn’t afford to be picky about the word choice.

“I don’t think I can trust him,” Barry said. Cisco’s heart sank.

“You don’t have to,” Dr. Wells said, which, what? “But he’s not going anywhere. I’ve been waiting for him for a long, long time.”

There was a pause, a small noise Cisco couldn’t identify.

“I must admit, I’m surprised. I never thought it would be _him_. But I suppose that doesn’t matter, now. He’s here, and you… You are more dangerous than you can afford to be, anymore.”

“Dr. Wells?” Barry gasped, and Cisco frowned. What the hell was going on in there?

“It’s a miracle you haven’t ruined everything already. But then, we’re often blind to what we don’t want to see. And you would never have wanted to see this.” There was a sharp, electric noise, and a choke, and Cisco couldn’t stand it anymore. He peeked around the doorway and looked in.

And froze. Oh, God.

Dr. Wells was standing up, and he had his hand _inside of Barry’s chest_. Cisco could see Barry’s face, eyes wet and disbelieving. Cisco should be doing something, should be leaping forward, but his feet wouldn’t move, his brain kept telling him, over and over, _too late, too late, too late_.

“If it’s any consolation, I can promise you, without question, that Cisco had nothing to do with your mother’s murderer,” Dr. Wells said softly. “He’s never done anything to hurt you.”

Barry’s eyes tore away from Wells’ face, pained and searching for something else. They met with Cisco’s gaze over Well’s shoulder, and a look Cisco couldn’t identify formed on Barry’s face. It jerked something loose in Cisco’s chest, and with his next breath, something else came out.

“No!” he yelled, but even as he did, Dr. Wells ripped his hand out of Barry’s chest and let the body fall to the floor, empty. Barry was dead. And Dr. Wells, his hand was vibrating, because he was… he was…

The Man in Yellow.

Wells was already turning, already looking for the new voice, and Cisco had to stop staring at Barry’s sightless eyes, had to _move_ , because no matter what Wells had just said about waiting for him, Cisco held no illusions that he would forgive the witness of a murder. Before Dr. Wells could lay eyes on him, Cisco ran.

He ran faster than he ever had before, out of STAR labs and through the city, no direction in mind except away, away, away. Away from Dr. Wells and Barry’s body and Caitlin, oh God, what if Wells went after Caitlin next? No, he wouldn’t, he’d be following Cisco. And he’d catch him, because nothing was faster than the Man in Yellow.

Cisco could already hear a second body displacing wind behind him, catching up. It would only be another few seconds before Wells caught him, and then, well, he didn’t know what would happen, but it wouldn’t be anything good. He had to go _faster_.

He caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, and faltered in his steps before finding his pace again. Was Wells already right beside him? No, that wasn’t Wells, that was… him?

Cisco ground to a stop, all thoughts of escape halted by the appearance of his double. He’d never seen that before, had no idea what it was. As soon as he stopped, though, it disappeared. He whipped around, searching the whole area and realizing he’d looped around somehow and ended up back in front of STAR labs. There was no sign of Dr. Wells, either. How had he lost him?

Deciding not to question his luck, or the strange hallucination, Cisco headed inside, back at normal speed so as not to attract suspicion. He’d go in, get Caitlin out, then speed them off to someplace where they could hide, make a plan. And Barry… God, he’d have to call Joe. Except, would that just send Joe to his death, too?

One step at a time. He rounded the corner into the cortex. “Caitlin, we have to—” He was interrupted by a startled shout.

“Surpri— Oh, Cisco, it’s just you.” Barry smiled in relief, dropping his outstretched hands. He was holding a half-inflated balloon.

Cisco stared at him. “What?”

“I thought you were Caitlin,” Barry explained, as if that answered the question of why he was suddenly _back from the dead_ , and… setting up party decorations? “You’re late, man, come grab some balloons. Dr. Wells is out getting more streamers.”

At the mention of his name, Cisco looked around the room frantically for Wells. Not here. Neither was Caitlin, even though this was where he left her. Just Barry. “What’s going on?” he said shakily, hoping Barry could make even a little bit of sense out of what was happening.

“Did you forget?” Barry asked, eyebrows raised. “Caitlin’s birthday party, remember?”

Caitlin’s… Cisco checked the room again, this time not for hidden murderers. He did remember this: the decorations, the lights, the food. This was the party they’d set up for Caitlin yesterday, which meant _this_ was _yesterday_.

Had it been a dream? No, it was too real. Had he… Cisco stared down at himself. It was tomorrow, and now it was yesterday. The only explanation for that was right out of a science fiction movie: time travel.

Which meant, this was real. And Barry…

Barry yelped as Cisco ran forward and tackled him without warning, clutching him tight enough to bruise. "You're alive," he said, choked.

"I'm... Yeah?" Barry lifted a hand hesitantly to pat at Cisco's shoulder. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing," Cisco said, laughing in relief. “ _Nothing_. Yet.” He pulled back, but didn’t let go of Barry’s arms. Barry looked worried, about _him_. “I have to tell you something. It’s going to sound weird, and kind of awful, but I need you to trust me.”

Barry was still for a moment, then nodded. “I trust you.”

Cisco’s knees nearly buckled at the words. “Thank you.”

“No problem, man. Are you…” Barry’s eyes searched over his body, like he was looking for wounds. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m getting _really_ weird vibes from you.”

“I will be,” Cisco assured him. “As soon as we talk, I will be. But we should go somewhere else, we can’t stay here.”

“But. Caitlin?”

“Call her,” Cisco said. “She should hear this too.”

 


	7. Day 7: Meeting the Relatives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I just have to take a moment to say a great big huge THANK YOU to everyone who left a comment on yesterday's drabble. I'll come and reply to all of you individually, but seriously, thank youuuu. I spent yesterday in a haze of pain from bruised ribs and dissociation from the meds I took to counter it, so getting that chapter out was a struggle, and it was super, super nice to know you guys enjoyed it! <3
> 
> Well then, enough out of me. Here's today's drabble.

Barry hadn’t thought he’d ever come to appreciate random metahumans from Earth-2 popping up all over the city, but compared with Zoom himself, they were a walk in the park. Plus, they were a sign that the anti-SpeedForce serum, while it hadn’t stopped Zoom in his tracks, had at least had some effect, had made him nervous. Barry would take that.

Cisco and Caitlin were still working on the serum in their spare time, but the only way to properly test was to use it on Barry, which was pretty non-optimal, so it was slow going. They had plenty of other things to worry about, too. Caitlin was still keeping an extra-close eye on Harry, who had plenty of healing left to go, and trying to reach out to Jay, concerned about something she didn’t want to discuss. Cisco was trying to increase security around the lab, but he kept getting interrupted…

"Ugh." Cisco put a hand to his head, scrunching up his eyes. "Hey, Barry. I found Reverb."

Barry jumped off the ladder he'd been standing on to install the new cameras. "Hartley 2.0 is back?"

Groaning, Cisco motioned him toward the cortex. "Why do I even bother coming up with awesome names for these guys when you just end up comparing them to people who are _nothing like them_?"

"Their powers _are_ pretty similar, Cisco,” Caitlin offered.

“Yeah, in the way a bird is similar to a airplane.” Cisco scoffed. “Hartley’s smart, sure, smart enough to whip up some high-tech gloves, but Reverb is au naturel. Way cooler.”

"Well, however he does it, that disrupter you built is going to work on him, right?"

"I think so?" Cisco said, with an entirely unconvincing frown. It didn't inspire great confidence in Barry. "Okay, in the basic sense, yes it will. It's designed to detect and cancel out the wave patterns he sends out, but I keep thinking there's something more to his power that we haven't figured out, yet."

“It’ll have to do,” Barry decided. “If something else comes up, I’ll deal with it. It’ll be a lot easier already if I don’t have to worry about getting blasted.”

He grabbed his suit and reached out a hand for the disrupter, but Cisco hesitated. And that was when he dropped the bomb.

“I think I should go with you.”

Barry stared at him. “What?”

“I should go,” Cisco said, more firmly than the first time. “The first time... I still don't know what it was, but his waves didn't affect me the same as you. I think I can help."

"You _are_ helping." Barry gestured to the device that Cisco still hadn't handed over. "You don't need to jump in front of a metahuman to do that."

“I _am_ a metahuman.” It came out stilted, like he still wasn’t used to the words, but it did come out. It was surprising enough that Barry didn’t respond immediately. “I’m part of this, like you are.”

“But you’re not…” Barry stopped, trying to think of a nicer thing to say than ‘you’re not useful in a fight.’ Cisco’s powers were pretty amazing and great for gathering information, but they weren’t exactly offensive, or even defensive. “You don’t have any combat experience.”

Cisco shook his head. “First of all, bullshit. I haven’t spent the last year and a half just living in this lab. Second of all, did _you_ have ‘combat experience’ when you started doing this? No, you didn’t. Also, third of all, we’re gonna lose him if you don’t stop arguing with me and take us over there right now.” He tightened his grip on the disrupter, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Barry was stuck, and Caitlin wasn’t helping, just waiting with interest to see how it would end. He _could_ just grab the device and take off; it wasn’t like Cisco would catching… But he would definitely be pissed off when Barry returned, and he did kind of have a point about being involved. Maybe.

Oh, yeah. And Cisco hadn’t actually told him where to go, yet.

“Fine,” Barry grumbled. “Where?”

“Wayland Park,” Cisco said happily, and Barry grabbed him and ran.

 

 

 

Clearly, Reverb hadn’t actually been planning on making a move yet, just walking through the park, maybe regrouping after last night’s encounter. He was still new to this world, and Barry was hoping to stop him before he did any major damage. The park, while open to civilians, was at least barren of any cars or buildings that could explode and cause injury.

Barry waited until Reverb had reached a fairly empty section before stepping directly in front of him. He left Cisco several feet back, where he was hopefully setting up the disrupter to be ready for any incoming attacks.

“Hey!” Barry yelled, to get his attention. He would have added more, but Reverb’s immediate reaction was to send out a burst of sonic energy.

It didn’t knock Barry off his feet, but it did blow him back a foot or so. “Cisco?”

“It works better if you’re _behind_ the disrupter, Barry.”

Right, except then he’d be hiding behind Cisco, too. Barry turned back to Reverb, ready to go in for an attack. The waves would be stronger if he went in close, but luckily he was fast. He was surprised, though, to see that Reverb’s attention didn’t even seem to be on him.

It was hard to tell, through the wide half-mask that covered his eyes and forehead, but Reverb had perked up at Cisco’s words and was now focused over Barry’s shoulder. Probably wondering what the device was and how to get rid of it. Barry planted a foot firmly forward and in front of Cisco. ‘ _Try it, jerk._ ’

But Reverb didn’t move. His mouth opened, shaped a few half-words, and when he finally spoke, he said: “Cisco?”

Cisco made a small noise behind him, but Barry didn’t want to take his eyes off Reverb. He wasn’t a big talker, hadn’t said a word last night, so Barry wasn’t sure why he was interested in their names, but it didn’t exactly matter. He rushed forward, intent on finishing this before his opponent could get in a good hit.

He managed two shots to the solar plexus before the air around Reverb exploded with sound. It wasn’t a directed blast, just waves and waves pouring outward. Barry lost track of where he was, where anything was, and collapsed to his knees on the ground. He tried to put his hands over his ears, but he wasn’t exactly sure where his hands _were_ , so he couldn’t tell if he managed it.

Probably not, because he could hear Cisco yelling something, and another voice yelling back. (‘...stop th…’ ‘what… doing here?’ ‘...didn’t tell…’) Barry couldn’t focus his thoughts. How was Cisco not on the ground?

Finally, the waves stopped. Barry stumbled to his feet, took it a little too fast and fell back to one knee.

Cisco wasn’t having the same problem, standing in exactly the same spot he’d been in before the waves had started. There must have been something wrong with him, though. He looked…

“Armando?” he said, sounding fearful of the answer.

Reverb reached up and flicked his mask off his face, revealing dark eyes and a handsome brow. Barry didn’t recognize anything in the features, but Cisco sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled backwards.

“Cisco.” Reverb frowned, glancing between Cisco and Barry, still kneeling on the ground, somehow unwilling to interrupt whatever this was. He pointed toward Barry, who braced himself for a blast that didn’t come. “He’s dangerous,” Reverb said, instead. “You shouldn’t be around him, little brother.”

Little…

The blast Barry had braced for finally came, knocking him onto his back. When he sat up again, Reverb was gone, and Cisco was scrambling toward him, reaching to help him up. His face was pale.

Barry didn’t let him take more than two breaths. “What did he mean?” he demanded. “Brother? I thought it was you and Dante?”

Cisco shook his head. “He shouldn’t be… We don’t talk about…”

“Well, we sure talks about _you_.” Barry blinked hard, trying to clear out the headache. “Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t be… You couldn’t have known; he’s from Earth-2, anyway. But we have to go.” Barry looked around, trying to figure out where Reverb had gone. “Did you see which way he went?”

“Toward downtown, but, Barry…”

Barry put a hand on Cisco’s shoulder. “Look, Cisco, I know it’s freaky. I thought I was going crazy when Dr. Light turned out to be Linda, but you can’t get distracted. It’s not your brother.”

Cisco gave a strangled laugh.

“We should go,” Barry continued, giving Cisco a little shake. “Come on, man, you know these guys’ first stop is usually to go after whoever they are in this world. Call your brother, tell him he needs to watch out, tell him he should get to… What?”

Because Cisco was shaking his head again. “Can’t call him.”

“Why not? He’s in danger.”

“No he isn’t,” Cisco said firmly. “We don’t have to worry about that, this time.”

Barry was trying to be patient, but he wished Cisco would be a little less freaked out and a little more clear. “Why not?” he asked again.

Cisco reached up and pulled Barry’s hand off his shoulder, taking a step back and then a deep breath, like the space between them gave him air. “Because in this world, Armando’s already dead.”

 


	8. Day 8: Poly/OT3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this is a pre-OT3, but I really wanted to get this out there because it's the start of what will (hopefully) be a longer, self-contained story when I eventually get my act together and finish writing it. Also, I've been feeling a sad lack of Patty, lately. I love that girl.

“Hey, so, I was just wondering…”

Cisco glanced up from the computer screens, though his fingers continued to type. Barry wondered how the hell he could do that. Not the touch-typing, because elementary school had shoved that onto every single student who passed through in the nineties, but writing out his original intended lines when his mind was on something else. For someone who was so easily distracted, Cisco displayed some weird moments of intense concentration. “What?”

“Oh, right, uh. Do you have anything smaller, maybe, less conspicuous than those sunglasses you gave me for the date with Patty? A camera, I mean.” Barry didn’t put words together well when he’d been startled out of thought.

“Well, sure.” Cisco shrugged. He finally stopped typing and pushed his chair back from the desk. “This is the age of technology, Barry. We’ve got micro-cams you could fit on a freckle and still get decent image. Why, were the sunglasses not good?”

Barry realized he’d been misinterpreted and tried to jump in. “Oh, no! I just—”

“Damn, sorry, I should’ve thrown something better together, I just thought they’d do a good job of hiding your crazy eye-movement, you know, you just weren’t tracking _anything_ that night and—”

“No, really, they were fine, but—”

“But they were last minute, I know. I’ve been playing around with some contact lenses lately, got the idea from a book, actually, they’re just not really ready for—”

“ _Cisco_ ,” Barry said loudly, managing to break through and shut him up, finally. Good, next step. “That’s not the problem, the glasses were fine, I just—” Come on, Barry, step up. You practiced this. “I’vegotanotherdatewithPattytomorrowand—”

“What?” Cisco asked. “Slow down, dude.”

Barry took a deep breath. Crap, why was this so _hard_? _Maybe because you’re as good as admitting you have less than no game?_ his mind suggested, but he told it to shut up so his face wouldn’t burn as he repeated himself, slowly. “I have another date with Patty tomorrow and, well, it just seemed like a good idea to have some backup with me, given that I was mostly blind for the first date and I had to postpone the second because I couldn’t walk…”

“Oh my God,” Cisco breathed, a look of totally uncalled-for wonderment forming across his face. “You’re _nervous_.”

“Shut up,” Barry said, and even to his own ears he sounded like a petulant child. “No I’m not.”

“Oh, you _totally_ are,” Cisco said, now grinning like a maniac. “Barry Allen, hero of Central City and the area’s most eligible bachelor beneath a mask, needs advice about going on a date with a girl. Hold on a second, I need to take this in.”

“ _Cisco_ ,” Barry whined. “Come on, you know it’s not like that. 90% of my social life is you guys, which is great, but when I’m out with Patty, I mean, she has no idea who I am. Honestly, I feel kind of exposed. It’d just be nice to have backup, especially with…” Barry held in a shudder. “With Zoom out there.”

Cisco sobered instantly. “Well, alright,” he said. “I guess that makes sense. Blind and paralyzed within a single month, you _have_ had pretty crappy luck, lately. Could probably do with someone looking over your shoulder.”

“Next thing you know I’ll end up temporarily deaf,” Barry sighed, added a silent prayer that that did _not_ happen.

“Dude, if you’re deaf, then me whispering instructions in your ears isn’t really gonna help, is it?”

“...Right.”

“Not to mention, we shouldn’t tempt fate,” Cisco warned. “But, I mean, you remember the part where Patty’s a cop, right? If anything happens while you’re out, she does have a gun, and the ability to call for police backup.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want anything to happen to her, either. Guns aren’t always as useful as they should be, not against the guys we’ve been finding lately.”

“Fair enough. Anyway, I have something here.” Cisco rummaged around in a nearby drawer and pulled out a small, circular object.

Barry frowned at it. “It looks like…”

“A button, yeah, it’s supposed to. I can hook this thing up to my feed, and there you go, totally discreet monitoring system. Add an earpiece and a hidden mic inside your collar, and all you have to do is find a shirt that can take on this baby as a replacement.”

“What if this doesn’t look like the other buttons?” Barry took the camera gingerly between two fingers, careful not to grip too hard in case he wrecked the wiring or smudged the lens.

“It’s designed with a pretty basic look, but if it sticks out, just tell her you lost one and had to replace it. Trust me, telling a girl you have basic life skills like sewing and taking care of your own clothes? It goes a long way.” Cisco clapped him on the shoulder. “And hey, if you ever _do_ want some advice about the dating thing? I’m here for ya. I know you came to me instead of Caitlin for a reason.”

Barry shook his head. Cisco was right, sort of, but it wasn’t exactly what he thought. After all the times he’d been out fighting some meta-human, or just dealing with a regular old crime, he’d gotten pretty used to Cisco being the voice in his ear. He’d developed an association: that voice meant support, and usually safety. It would feel a little too weird to hear someone else giving him advice without Cisco at least being in the background. “You’re the tech guy,” he muttered instead of explaining all that.

“Sure, Barry.” Cisco rolled his eyes. “Just remember, this ‘tech guy’ has kissed _two_ different girls in as many months, and you’re still working on a second date.”

“Alright, alright.” Barry raised his hands in defeat. “You’re the master. Just keep an eye out for anything weird tomorrow night.”

“No problem,” Cisco said, “but you have to at least bring me back some dessert in a doggie bag or something. I’m giving up a whole evening of The Walking Dead for this.”

It seemed like a fair payment.

 

 

 

At 7pm the next day, Barry was neither deaf, blind, concussed, poisoned, nor missing any major limbs. The way things had been going lately, what should have been a normal day seemed like a lucky break. In fact, things had been pretty quiet, which made him a little nervous, but he was determined to enjoy the time he was given.

He was putting on his suit jacket in the mirror when he paused, glancing at the camera on his chest. Cisco had been right, it barely looked out of place; he doubted Patty would even notice it. He himself could almost forget which one it was, and he made a mental note to be careful with the shirt later tonight. He didn’t want to throw it in the wash and ruin the electronics by accident. For a moment, he wondered if he even needed it tonight. It _was_ unlikely he’d be interrupted…

He shook his head a moment later. He’d been attacked by a giant shark-man in the very moment he’d been considering asking Patty out for the first time; clearly the universe and Zoom had something against his love life. Better to play it safe.

“Not gonna get my partner in trouble tonight, are you?”

Barry whirled around to find Joe watching him from the doorway to his room. “No!” he replied quickly. “No, of course not.”

Joe chuckled, pushing off the doorway to step inside. “Ah, don’t listen to me. Honestly, I’d be more worried about her getting _you_ in trouble. She’s very… enthusiastic.”

“She did charge straight at a two-story shark-man that one time,” Barry admitted. “Which, for the record, probably saved my life, and also could definitely have gotten her killed.”

“So she’s a little reckless, too.” Joe shrugged. “Another thing you two have in common.”

Barry thought of Cisco shooting Zoom in the back with serum, Caitlin jumping in to send Grodd toward the portal, Linda telling him how Iris had stood in front of her against Doctor Light and then turning around and agreeing to play bait. It seemed like all of his friends had that same trait. He wondered if they’d all had it before they gravitated together, or if the stuff they saw daily made them kind of numb to the concept of ‘take a step back before you get yourself killed.’ Danger was the norm, these days.

“Yo, Barry, you know you’re supposed to be over there in like two minutes, right?”

“Oh, right,” Barry said, and then, because Joe didn’t know Cisco was speaking in his ear, “I should head out. Don’t want to be late.”

“Sure, sure. You need some help picking out a tie?” Joe gestured to the three that were laying out on Barry’s bed, cast aside when he was choosing an outfit.

“Yeah, I—” Barry leaned toward the bed, then froze halfway there, remembering the camera. A tie would obstruct the view. “Actually, I think I’m gonna keep it kind of casual tonight. Besides, ties slow me down if I need to change in the suit.”

Joe smirked. “Like you can’t afford the extra millisecond. But sure, yeah, keep it casual. Just show that woman a good time, or I’ll be hearing about it tomorrow.”

“No problem,” Barry said. He checked his appearance one last time before nodding, satisfied that the mic and earpiece were safely hidden, and speeding off.

The evening did, in fact, go very well, though it started off a bit rough when it turned out Patty was allergic to the flowers he picked up on the way.

“It really was very sweet, I promise,” Patty reassured him, while he was cutting the stems in her kitchen and putting them into a vase as she directed. “My neighbor loves flowers, she’ll be so happy. She might even bake me a pie as a thank you. You know, she makes a mean cherry-apple, and it’s only fair I share the bounty with you.”

“Oh, I mean, the flowers were a gift, so you should get to keep the pie,” Barry said, hiding his reddened cheeks by leaning in closer to the cutting board.

Cisco sighed in his ear. “Barry, you dunce, she wants to _share the pie with you_. Like, at the same time, not a tupperware thing. That’s a third date, right there.”

“Oh!” Barry turned around to find Patty smiling at him. “I mean, yes, that sounds great! I love cherry-apple.”

“Noted. I’ll let you know how that turns out. You can just leave those there for now; she’s a grad student, probably already buried in her books for the night. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

Barry placed the vase carefully at the far end of the counter, where hopefully none of the pollen would drift onto important surfaces, and offered Patty his arm. He was determined to be a gentleman, to make up for the flower mistake. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she replied, taking his arm.

They walked through the entryway, and Barry had to lean down to push a large rock that someone had used as a doorstop out of the way so the building’s door would shut behind them. He wasn’t expecting the low whistle in his ear. “Damn, check out her shoes. You gotta say something.”

Barry made a soft questioning noise, covering by tilting his head to the side so Patty wouldn’t hear.

“Did you even see the heels? Those shoes take effort, Barry, they deserve a compliment.”

Barry took another glance down at their feet. Cisco was right, they were pretty impressive. He cleared his throat. “You look amazing, by the way. Your shoes are…” Blue? “Fantastic.”

Patty looked pleasantly surprised to hear it. “Thanks, you look pretty good yourself. You know, most guys don’t notice the shoes.”

“Well, it’s kind of a sneaky tactic on my part,” Barry continued, getting into the swing of things, now. “I’m trying to get you to compliment mine.” He took a step back, tilting his feet to model his own plain black shoes.

Patty laughed. “Yes, they’re very appropriate.”

“That’s all I get? Appropriate?”

“Step up your game, Allen. Maybe something in a sparkly purple.”

“Ah, but then I’d have to find a shirt to match.”

“I think I’ve got something left over from my magician phase in college,” Cisco offered.

Barry snorted, caught off guard, which luckily didn’t seem too out of place, just laughing at his own joke. Patty laughed, too, and tugged his arm to lead them in the direction of the restaurant. Sighing into the night air, Barry felt relieved, comfortable. This was going okay. He’d even managed to look like an attentive date, despite not knowing about her allergy (he should ask for a list, after dinner).

If he was being truly honest with himself, he did have an ulterior motive to having Cisco along on this date. Sure, he was concerned about meta incidents, but he was at least as concerned about the normal dating stuff. The last person he’d been out with was Linda, and she’d caught on pretty quickly to the fact that his mind was distracted by someone else.

He liked Patty, a lot, he really did, but he was still kind of working on getting over Iris, too, and he didn’t want to cut off a new relationship before it really started by giving that away. Cisco could help keep him on track, he hoped.

“So where are you going, anyway?” Cisco asked him.

Barry turned to Patty. “How does Thai food sound to you?”

“Sounds perfect,” she said.

 

 

 

By the end of the night, Barry was exhausted, but pleased. Exhausted, because the night had morphed into an impromptu crime-fighting excursion when Cisco had mentioned a silent alarm while he was dropping off Patty and Barry was still getting back into the swing of long-distance runs. Pleased, because not only had he dropped a couple of low-lifes off at the station tonight, but the date had gone well, even if the good-night kiss was a little shorter than usual, given his need to get going.

He flopped backwards onto his bed, sighing heavily. Sometimes his life felt like a juggling act, but a high-stakes one, like the guys that juggled knives.

Or chainsaws.

Having an extra bit of support around helped, made him feel like he wasn’t going to drop anything just yet. _This was a good idea_ , he thought.

“Hey,” Cisco said, breaking the silence. “You didn’t forget my dessert, did you?”

“Dropped it in your fridge on my way home from the station.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I should be thanking _you_. Seriously, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Barry stared up at the ceiling, considering the effort it would take to stand up and start getting undressed versus the effort it would take to ask his next question. “Same time next Thursday?”

He heard nothing for just long enough that he started to wonder if he hadn’t said it out loud, but then Cisco answered, smooth as ever. “Sure thing, man. If that’s what you need.”

“Thanks. Again.”

“Night, Barry.”

“Yeah.”

Barry reached up to tug out the earpiece, then the mic, then sat up to unbutton his shirt. He’d take the camera off tomorrow, but for now the shirt could just hang over the back of his chair. He needed to sleep.

 


	9. Day 9: Future!AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is like, the bare minimum of Barrisco required for this challenge, but, well, this is what wanted to come out, today. Hopefully you'll enjoy it; I enjoyed writing it!

Cisco let out a tired groan as he heaved himself up the fire escape. God, _why_ did they have to live on the fifth floor? They were totally going to have to talk about moving when Barry... When he...

' _Focus,_ ' he reminded himself. ' _Don't waste time worrying about it when you can be_ doing _something about it instead_.' With that thought, he lifted himself up onto the last level and knocked on the window.

His fist had barely lowered when Iris flung open the window, and Cisco wondered for the thousandth time whether it was possible that the Speedforce could have rubbed off on her, just a little. "Well?" she asked, breathless.

Cisco could only shake his head, wishing he had a better answer for her. She sighed, slumping with the same kind of exhaustion that clung to his own skin, but stepped aside to let him in. He clambered over the windowsill and out of the budding light of sunrise.

"Have you slept at all?"

She huffed a breath. "Of course not. That's a stupid question. You'll notice I don't bother asking you."

"'Cause you know what I've been doing all night." Cisco collapsed onto the couch and reached up to push his mask off over his head. Shit, he'd been wearing that thing too long. He rubbed at the marks the glasses had left along his cheekbones.

When he looked up, Iris gestured to her laptop, which was open on a half-finished mock-up of an article: _Flash Missing, Vanishes in Crisis_.

"It's going out with the online update at noon," she said. "And an extended version in tomorrow morning's part. I mean..." Her brow furrowed, and she sat down heavily beside Cisco. "If he's not back by then."

He wanted to say they wouldn't need that story tomorrow, that Barry would be back by then, would be back at _all_ , but he couldn't, because he didn't know, and Iris had never appreciated empty promises. They had always known this would happen; they'd never known exactly what would come next.

Instead of trying to comfort her with words, Cisco put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. She fit there with an ease that came with practice. “If he only jumped through time,” she murmured, staring at the photo on the computer screen, “why wouldn’t he come back right after he left? Even if he got held up back then, he’d know when to come back.”

“Maybe his sense of time is a little off. He’s jumping like twenty-five years; a day or two isn’t a bad margin of error. Or…” Cisco swallowed. “Or maybe he’s waiting because he knows he’s supposed to be gone long enough for people to notice, and he doesn’t want to mess up the time stream.”

Iris snorted softly, and Cisco had to agree. Barry generally didn’t give a shit about the time stream, and it drove Cisco crazy, since he was the one who had to keep track of all those shifting realities. Still, it was nice to think that maybe this one time, Barry was just playing it safe…

“You can’t feel him at all?”

Cisco closed his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t like to think about that. He’d never really figured out whether it was real or not — some vaguely defined aspect of his powers that allowed him to tune into the vibrations of the people closest to him, or just wishful thinking and a lot of love — but it was comforting to be able to sit back and feel the cadence of their steps shifting through the air. For the last seven and a half hours, though, the space where Barry normally was had felt still. Empty.

Hands on either side of his face brought him back to the present. Iris held his gaze, stroking a thumb across his cheek. “I’m still here,” she reminded him. “Feel me.”

He focused on the soothing rhythm of her thumb, shuddering as he let it pull him into a memory.

_“Never again,” Barry panted, sinking back into the couch with a hand over his heart._

_“You baby,” Cisco admonished, frowning. “Iris is doing fine.”_

_“Of course she is.” Barry groaned, throwing his free arm over his eyes. “This is the girl who dressed up as a blood-drenched zombie when we were twelve and hid in my closet for an hour just to scare the hell out of me.”_

_Iris smirked. “Good times.”_

_“But this movie isn’t even that bad. I mean, you should see_ The Ring _or something like—”_

 _“No,” Barry said immediately. “Absolutely not. Next week is my turn to pick and we’re watching a_ comedy _.”_

_“And the week after that is my turn,” Iris reminded him._

_Barry whined. “Why do you do this to me?”_

_“Because we love you.” Iris leaned over and ducked between his arms for a quick kiss. “And because you’re a grown man who fights supervillains on a daily basis and yet can’t handle the movie preferences of his partners.”_

_“And because we like it when you cling when we go to bed later,” Cisco added._

_“Yes,” Iris agreed. “That too.”_

Cisco opened his eyes, leaving behind the over-saturated world of the vision and returning to reality. Iris gave him a shaky smile, like she knew exactly what he’d seen. She closed the distance between them for a lingering kiss, and he sighed into it, almost able to imagine the taste of Barry on them, left over from the memory. He kissed her again, and this time it was all her.

“I should go,” he said when they broke apart. “Trace over the area again. Maybe there’s something I missed. I don’t know why I can’t get through to him…”

“Probably because our boyfriend is an idiot who never seems to get how much we worry.” Iris shook her head fondly, and smoothed Cisco’s hair back one more time before standing up from the couch. “I should get ready for work, I guess. Or.” She paused. “Or maybe I should stay here, in case he comes back?”

But Cisco shook his head. “Work’s probably the best place to be. Say Barry has the flu, if anyone asks about him. We don’t need anyone connecting his disappearance with the Flash. If he needs to find you, he’ll know where.”

Iris nodded. “Good luck,” she said, as Cisco replaced his mask over the lines already worn into his skin.

She didn’t like empty promises, Cisco thought again, nor did he like giving them. Still, in that moment, what he said didn’t feel empty at all; it felt certain. “I’ll find him.” He felt the truth of it fill him, hoping it was a vibe from the universe and not just a hope he’d finally convinced himself to believe.

“And if you don’t?” Iris asked, because she always did.

“Then it’ll be because you found him.”

He knew it was true. He did.

 


	10. Day 10: FOR SCIENCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me, I've been wanting to write 2x05 Barrisco Established Relationship basically ever since the episode came out. The actual prompt comes in like... the last few paragraphs of this monster. Also, this features shifting POV between sections, so don't be surprised. We needed to hear from both of them, this time.

“You do realize that when I said I wanted a drink, I didn’t mean a latte, right? I was talking about alcohol, like, mind-numbing alcohol.”

Barry rolled his eyes. He was already questioning the wisdom of giving Cisco caffeine to drink, given how jittery and tense he’d been since Dr. Wells Version 2.0 had showed up in STAR labs; alcohol was entirely out of the question. “You gotta give him a chance, okay? He’s not a speedster, just a regular, normal guy. From another universe.” Who happened to look exactly like a man they’d all had to learn how to hate.

Snorting dismissively, Cisco glared at the blackboard full of drink listings, looking like the absolute last thing he wanted to do was give Wells a chance. Honestly, Barry kind of agreed with him. It was a struggle just to be civil around the guy, much less convince everyone else to do the same.

 _You think this is easy for me?_ he’d told Joe earlier, palms still smarting from the bullets he’d only half-wanted to stop. _The guy in there looks, moves, sounds exactly like the guy that drove a knife through my mother’s heart and crushed my boyfriend’s chest. I have to resist the urge to kill him._ He shuddered, hating Wells all over again for inspiring that kind of bloodlust in him. It felt like poison, curling deep in his stomach.

He reached out and grabbed Cisco’s hand, letting the automatic sense of calm that came from the gesture wash over him. He’d spent most of the conversation with Wells earlier today wanting to just grab Cisco and shove him behind himself, and he’d managed to resist, so he was due a little contact. Cisco sighed lightly and squeezed back after a moment. “I never thought I’d miss time travel,” he said.

“Time travel, huh?”

They both jumped. Barry whipped around to find Patty standing in line behind them. “Hey!”

“Hi!” She laughed. “Is there a metahuman who can time travel?”

“Time— No!” Barry scoffed, glancing at Cisco for help, but he just shrugged. “Time travel’s not real,” he finished lamely.

“Really? ‘Cause that would be pretty cool.”

Okay, no, they had to change the subject. “Uh, Patty, you know my boyfriend, right? Cisco Ramon?”

She nodded. “Yeah, you’re the scientific advisor on metahumans to the CCPD, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, pleased to be recognized as such.

“Nice.”

As always seemed to happen with any conversation involving a cop, they only had a couple more minutes to talk before Patty got called away to write her report.

“Good to see you guys, anyway,” she said, looking mournfully at the long line she’d never make it through, now. “I’ll see you at the station later Barry, Cisco.” She waved, and left. Maybe Barry would grab an extra coffee and bring it by later. She certainly looked like she could use the energy.

“See, _she_ knows my name,” Cisco grumbled.

Barry shot him a confused look. “Huh?”

“Dr. Creep,” Cisco explained. “Harry, I guess, I’m not calling him Wells. I know he mispronounced my name on purpose.”

Barry considered it. “I mean, he’d only just met you. He only heard your name once.”

“He called me _Crisco_ , Barry. No one in their right mind thinks a mother would name their child _Crisco_.”

“I guess not,” Barry said, stifling a laugh. It hadn’t been funny at all when Wells, or Harry, had said it, but now that they were away from him and in the brightly-lit coffee shop, he felt a lot more light-hearted about everything. “Okay, so he’s definitely a dick, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we can’t trust him.”

“I’ll buy that,” Cisco allowed, “if you admit that the fact that he saved your life once doesn’t automatically mean that we _can_ trust him, either. I mean, Wells Prime only pulled that trick like a thousand times, and we’re not exactly having him over for dinner to say thank you.”

He had a point, much as Barry didn’t like that they were people who had to set the bar _higher_ than ‘took down a raging shark-man to save my butt.’

“All I’m saying is we should be careful, here. Wanting to keep you alive doesn’t mean he doesn’t want something else from you, and it doesn’t mean he cares about the rest of us.”

That was exactly what Barry was afraid of. Whoever this new version of Wells was, every move he made had a sense of intense purpose. He gave the impression of a man who would tear apart anything that stood in the way of what he wanted. Whatever happened, Barry was going to make sure none of those things were his friends. “We’ll be careful,” he agreed.

Finally, they reached the front of the line. Cisco greeted the woman behind the counter, who must have been new, because Barry couldn’t remember seeing her before. “Two Flashes, for me,” he said, with a sideways glance at Barry that dared him to argue. ‘ _I’m not going to sleep tonight and you can’t convince me otherwise_ ,’ the look said.

Barry sighed. “Two for me, too, I guess. One of them to go, please.” He’d run it by the station later. Patty would appreciate it.

“I’ll grab us a table,” Cisco said, satisfied.

“Wow,” the woman said, punching in their order. “What do you guys have against sleep, anyway?”

“We’re regulars,” Barry said with a wry smile. “You’ll get used to us, don’t worry.”

She was pretty quick at getting their drinks, which Barry appreciated. Waiting for coffee was the only part of his morning routine that really slowed him down, these days. He picked up the mugs carefully, accepting the tray that was offered with a grateful nod, and scanned the tables for Cisco. He frowned when he saw that Cisco hadn't sat down at all, though there was an empty table just a few feet to his left.

Setting the tray down on said table, Barry approached Cisco where he stood, stock still and facing away. Barry couldn't tell what he was looking at. He tapped him on the shoulder, surprised when he got no response, and moved around him. "Cisco?"

Cisco blinked, the blank look draining from his face. At the sight, Barry instantly froze. That was the same look Cisco had wherever he thought about Dr. Wells killing him in that alternate timeline. Was he having flashbacks again? Barry put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in closer. "Hey, what's up?"

“We have another breacher.”

“What?” Barry asked, taken aback. “How do you know?”

“Central City Bank,” Cisco continued, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. “You gotta go, now.”

Barry narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out why it felt like Cisco was lying.

Cisco sighed, gesturing vaguely with one hand and speaking in a mumble. “I have an app on my phone. It buzzed. Go on, dude.”

“All right,” Barry said, taking a single step back. “All right, but meet me back at the lab, okay?”

Cisco nodded, and Barry left before he could amend the promise.

 

 

Harry was inside his workroom.

“Hey. Hey!”

Harry was inside _his_ workroom, playing loud music and using his computer and generally invading Cisco’s space, and he’d only been here for a few hours but Cisco was already sick of him. If this guy wanted to stop Zoom, he should just _do_ it and then leave.

It took too long to get Harry’s attention, and by then, Cisco was so annoyed that the conversation was reduced to them sniping at each other. It was a shame Cisco knew next to nothing about this guy, so he couldn’t go for the low blows, just insult his musical tastes and word choice. He’d come in here with the intention of using the computers to run some simulations on Dr. Light’s powers, but with Harry occupying that space, he’d have to wait. He couldn’t just turn around and walk back out, though, so he started fiddling with some parts on a nearby table. They didn’t really need the attention, but Harry didn’t know that.

“What did he do to you?”

Oh, _hell_ no.

But Harry was determined, now. “I know he caused the singularity, murdered Barry’s mother, blah, blah, blah, blah. What did he do to you?”

“It’s not enough he broke up my boyfriend’s family, wrecked his life and then tried to kill him?” Cisco muttered, keeping his eyes down.

“No, it’s something more personal than that. You can barely look me in the eye.”

A wrench clanged down onto the bar in front of him, and Cisco, who had been using most of his energy and attention to stand still and _not_ look at Harry, flinched. Damnit.

“Why is that?” Harry continued, the absolute _dick_. “What did he do to you?”

“He shoved his hand through my chest,” Cisco said, spitting the words out like a toxin he was expelling. “He stopped my heart.”

Harry soaked up the outburst with a look on his face like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning, the excitement of the moment of discovery. For a moment, it made Cisco’s blood run cold, and he wondered what exactly he’d just handed this guy, and why he’d let it happen. Then, Harry laughed.

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “Okay, that would do it, but you survived that.”

Cisco’s jaw clenched. “Only because Barry erased that timeline.”

“I see.” Harry sobered instantly, making his priorities clear. Cisco was a joke, an amusement that Harry would waste some idle curiosity on if he walked into the room. Barry was serious business. “Barry traveled in time.”

“Twice,” Cisco said. ‘ _That’s right, my boyfriend’s awesome. And he picked_ me.’

As if he’d heard the unspoken thought, Harry raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Here’s how it is.”

He took a step backwards, and Cisco felt like air had just rushed back into the room, though he hadn’t even noticed it was missing. “What’s the deal?”

“You don’t have to like me,” Harry said.

‘ _Check_ ,’ Cisco thought. ‘ _Great big check right there._ ’

“I don’t like you.” Duh. “But you have to work with me, to stop Zoom and Doctor Light. To help Barry. Can you do that?”

Cisco pursed his lips. ‘To help Barry,’ right. He wasn’t remotely convinced that was Harry’s goal. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we.”

“I guess we will,” Harry replied, as Cisco officially gave up on appearances and started to walk out of the lab. “One more thing.”

Cisco sighed and turned around. What now?

He refused to spend long assuring Harry that yes, his program was fine, and no, he didn’t need someone else to look at it. He didn’t need Harry examining his every reaction to that conversation, because he had no doubt that the man was observant enough to realize he was lying.

 

 

“He’s a metahuman.”

Barry didn’t want to believe it, and if it had just been Harry talking, just the watch and his word that it worked the way he said it did, he wouldn’t have. But Cisco looked trapped and ashamed. Scared.

“Cisco?” Cisco flinched and looked down at the floor. Oh. “Have you known about this? And you didn’t… say anything?”

Barry saw Cisco’s jaw tighten as he drew in a breath to speak. “Yeah, I was gonna tell you,” he said, but the harsh edge to his voice faded away as he raised his head and met Barry’s eyes. “I swear. I was. But I… didn’t.”

He didn’t. It sounded so simple.

He didn’t, when he first realized there was more to the visions than they’d all assumed. He didn’t, when Barry asked him if he was okay. He didn’t, when they caught up on Game of Thrones or when they ate breakfast together or when Barry kissed him in the shower.

But maybe it was that simple, that easy to let something slip by for so long just because you’re scared of saying it, because Barry couldn’t say a word for the next two minutes, and Caitlin was the one who assured Cisco that he didn’t have to be afraid, that he wasn’t going to become evil. He tried, he knew it should be him, but he couldn’t do it.

When Cisco said, “that’s my fault, I’m sorry,” Barry finally wrenched his mouth open, because damnit, they’d talked about this, this automatic apology system that seemed to be hardwired into Cisco’s brain. He shook his head, trying to think of some way to say Cisco shouldn’t be apologizing without pretending this was all totally fine, but Harry was quicker to gather his thoughts.

“Well, you can be sorry later, because right now, we have to use your powers to find Doctor Light.”

Barry frowned. 'We'? He wasn't sure he liked that. Just because Harry had figured out Cisco had powers — and _that_ still felt weird to say — didn't mean he got to decide how they were used.

“I’m just not sure what triggers it,” Cisco was explaining. “Sometimes it just happens. Sometimes it’s when I’m touching something of theirs.”

Harry nodded. “Touch the mask.”

There was a pause, as everyone seemed to take in that Harry’s big plan, that only he could come up with, was for Cisco to just… touch it.

“You want to find Doctor Light? Do it.”

Cisco looked from him to Barry, with a question in his eyes. Now that it was right here, right in front of him, Barry couldn’t help it. He was curious. He tilted his head to the side, shrugging slightly. ‘ _If you want to, go ahead._ ’

With a deep breath, Cisco reached out slowly, like he was about to put his hand into a box full of live bees. His hand brushed the mask, and his eyes slammed shut.

A moment later, he opened his eyes again. He blinked in confusion, then pressed his hand harder to the mask, a look of intense concentration on his face. Barry glanced from his hand back up. Was this… right? Cisco tapped it a couple more times before pulling away. “I don’t think it’s working.”

“Try again,” Harry said, immediately.

Cisco glanced at the mask, then back to Harry, hesitating.

“ _Try again!_ ”

“Whoa.” Barry took a step forward, placing himself between Harry and Cisco. “Take it easy.”

Harry’s glare shifted to land on Barry, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. There it was again, that look like he’d set the whole city on fire if he had to.

Behind Barry, Cisco was exhaling slowly, trying to see something again. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, drawing back. “It’s not—”

“ _Again._ ”

Cisco worked his jaw, clearly frustrated. “I can’t control it.”

“Because you’re afraid,” Harry finished, and if Barry hadn’t been looking back at Cisco just then, he wouldn’t have caught the split-second expression that made the words real.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know how it works,” Cisco said, his voice inches away from yelling and getting closer with every word. “I can’t just _make_ it happen.”

“And I’m telling you: yes you _can_.”

Barry was so focused on Cisco, he didn’t even notice Harry had moved until a hand shoved past him. Cisco gasped, the frustration draining away to an expression of shock and something else, horribly familiar. When Barry looked down and found Dr. Well’s hand at Cisco’s chest, there was a moment of blind panic.

Faster than anyone but Barry himself could register, he whirled around and shoved Harry away as hard as he could. He was back, hands on Cisco’s shoulders and eyes searching his face, his chest, his eyes, before Harry hit the floor. Distantly, he noticed the mask clattering to the ground beside him.

“Cisco,” he demanded. “Talk to me.”

The shock faded quickly, but the blank expression that replaced it wasn’t any more comforting. “South Plaza train station, platform 15,” Cisco said, without a hint of his normal tone.

“Are you okay?” Barry shook one shoulder a little, hoping for a reaction. He had no idea how this usually worked. Was this normal?

“What are you waiting for?”

Barry looked over his shoulder. Harry had propped himself up on his elbows, grimacing as he put a hand up to his side. “Go.”

Instead of moving, Barry turned back to Cisco. Finally, Cisco came back to himself enough to look Barry in the eyes, and nodded. Okay. That was enough, for now.

Barry turned away with one last, comforting squeeze to Cisco’s shoulders. “Watch him,” he told Caitlin and Jay, indicating the man who was still sprawled on the ground. He didn’t feel safe leaving until they nodded.

 

 

As soon as Barry had incapacitated Doctor Light, Cisco left the cortex. He just couldn’t stay in there any long, not with Caitlin giving him her sympathetic look and Harry grinning at the computer screens like everything he’d done had been worth it. Which, Cisco couldn’t exactly argue with, because they’d caught Light, and no one else would die. If the expense was that he felt like shit, that was definitely worth it.

Instinct had him heading for his workroom, but Harry had been all up in that space lately, so he turned around and went into the room with the souped-up treadmill. This was usually Barry’s room to broad in, but he wouldn’t mind sharing just this once. Probably. Depending on how pissed he was when he got back.

Cisco killed the time until then by picking at the hem of his pants leg. Usually, he’d find some electronics to fiddle with, but the only thing in here was the treadmill, and it wouldn’t exactly benefit from his attentions while he was feeling like this. They were old jeans, anyway.

He heard Barry coming, which probably meant that Barry was making a conscious effort to _let_ Cisco hear him coming, which meant things were going to be weird. “Hey. How are you doing?”

Cisco snorted. “I should be asking you that. Out of the two of us, who just fought a known murderer?”

Because, no matter how much his pounding heartbeat tried to convince him otherwise, this version of Wells had never killed anyone. Well, not that they knew of, anyway.

Barry shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Me too.”

"No, you're not," Barry snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, if you just wanted to _tell_ me how I feel, then why did you even ask?" Cisco ripped a long strand off of his jeans and slammed his hand down onto the treadmill, glaring at Barry. His anger only lasted a few moments before he looked down again. “Shit, sorry.”

“No, it’s not you. I’m just…” Barry rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Okay, my elbow’s tweaked, I definitely need one of those calorie bars sometime soon, and I’m still seeing a few spots here and there from the last time I fought Light. Now you go.”

Cisco leaned back onto his hands with a sigh. “Probably gonna have a bruise on my chest,” he offered, because fair was fair. “And I’m _definitely_ not sleeping tonight. I’m playing Skyrim until dawn.”

Barry’s expression darkened. “I should’ve broken his nose. I still could, if that would help.”

“Na. I mean, it might make him look like less of a douche.” Cisco chuckled. “But he was right, he knew what to do.”

“No he didn’t,” Barry said, throwing a brief glare toward the doorway. “He just knew how to push his way into getting things to go how he wants.”

“Well, it’s not like I was doing anything useful by myself. Not a damn thing. I’ve been having these visions for _months_ and I still have _no clue_ how they work.” Cisco lowered his head into his hands, burying his fingers in his hair to hold in the hysterical laugh that was trying to escape. God, he was pathetic.

“I know Caitlin said not to worry, but everyone else who was affected ended up twisted or messed up or _dead_ , and everything I saw was bad. I never got visions of, like, families celebrating Hanukkah or a college basketball game; it was always awful.”

There were soft sounds as Barry moved closer, until he was standing right next to where Cisco sat, but he didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t want it to be real,” Cisco whispered. “If I told you, and I actually figured out how to use it, it was going to be real. If I kept it to myself, then I was just going crazy.”

And then, apparently, Barry gave up on letting him work through it himself, because there was a heavy thump on the treadmill next to him and he was covered with a hug a moment later. Cisco burrowed deep into Barry’s arms, grateful for the warmth.

It took him a few minutes to get his breathing under control. Finally, he loosened his grip a fraction and Barry took the cue, drawing back far enough to be able to see each other’s face. He didn’t let go of Cisco’s hand, though.

“I’m not… mad,” Barry said carefully. “Just in case you’re wondering. I’m just wishing…”

“Yeah,” Cisco finished. He knew what Barry meant. It should have been easier for him to come out with this, but he wasn’t sure what they could have done to make that happen. “It’s kind of a relief now, though.”

“Better than you thought?”

“Totally. If I could pick, though, I’d still get rid of them. They’re a nuisance.”

“About that,” Barry said. “I have an idea.”

Cisco raised an eyebrow.

“You said they’re always bad, but they’re always triggered by something bad. Or someone,” he added, thoughtfully. “But maybe, it you try to access them while you’re touching someone you _like_...”

Hesitating, Cisco wondered how to tell Barry that he’d tried that before. Or, well, not so much tried it as accidentally fallen into a vision while pressed against Barry at night, and it hadn’t been good at all. At least, he couldn’t think of any reason why Barry would be in a hospital bed and a neck brace that could possibly be seen as ‘good.’

“Just try it,” Barry pleaded. “You have to just… think good thoughts, and try to see something.”

“Oh, so you know how it works?”

Barry laughed. “No? No idea. But we’re scientists, dude. This is how you test a theory.”

“Hmm.” Cisco gave him a look.

Barry flashed him a grin. “C’mon, Cisco. Kiss me. For science.”

Ducking his head slightly, Cisco let himself laugh at the ridiculous expression on Barry’s face, but that moment of distraction meant Barry caught him in a kiss on his way back up. Cisco sank into it instantly, soft and familiar, and brought up his free hand to cup Barry’s jaw.

‘ _Okay,_ ’ he thought. ‘ _Just this once. Relax, and try to…_ ’

It happened quicker than he would have ever expected. He had the weird sensation of knowing his eyes were closed, knowing Barry was right in front of him, but still seeing the presented scene with nothing in the way.

There was a Christmas tree, and Joe was pouring out something from a novelty Santa jug, passing a cup across the couch. Iris was laughing at something Linda had said, Jay and Caitlin were standing awkwardly under the mistletoe, and Barry was by the fireplace, talking to a boy Cisco didn’t recognize. It was warm.

He opened his eyes.

“Did you see anything?” Barry grinned eagerly. “You did, didn’t you? You had the face.”

“I did,” Cisco admitted. “We’re gonna have an awesome Christmas.”

“Ha! I told you.” Barry ran a hand along Cisco’s cheek, brushing his hair back. “We can get through this.”

“Yeah.” Cisco smiled a little, pressing one more, short kiss to Barry’s lips. “And, uh, now that you know about this… There’s some other stuff I should tell you, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Somewhere out there is a person named Crisco and they're gonna be very annoyed at me if they read this fic. Look, Cisco just really hates Harry right now, okay?
> 
> 2\. I know Cisco seeing "future" visions isn't exactly canon supported right now, but Wells was talking about him seeing into other timelines and universes, so the way I see it, it's not so much predicting the future as it is seeing... possible outcomes, I guess. Eh, hopefully it didn't bug you too much.


	11. Day 11: Monster!AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my confession: I've never seen the term 'monster!au' used before, so I just threw my hands in the air and did an iZombie crossover. If you've never seen the show, I put a quick primer in the end notes of this chapter; that should be all you need. No real spoilers except the general existence of season 1 characters. Also, there's some background Ravi/Liv and mention of past Ravi/Cisco. FIGHT ME.

If Cisco had to pick one thing, one absolute worst thing about the situation in which he’d found himself, it was the knowledge of how utterly disappointed his family would be if they found out he was a zombie.

He could hear Dante now: ‘Well, I suppose we thought you might make it to at least 30 before becoming a member of the undead, but it _is_ your life, Cisquito.’ If he had to sit through that lecture, Cisco would take a bite out of his brother’s arm, he really would.

...Okay, so he wouldn’t actually, but more out of concern for the general populous. Dante was bad enough without adding in a thirst for brains to his personality. The point was, he was spending an awful lot of time these days hiding his new affliction from his family, and, frankly, the rest of the world. It was a more involved process than he would have thought, given that he hadn’t immediately devolved into shambling and groaning after he’d been scratched.

There was the hair dye, first of all, because the whole ‘pastel goth’ look _really_ did not suit him. Then there were the spray tans, because his mama would kick his ass if she thought he was getting into those skin lightening creams that were going around again. If that was what was really happening, he’d let her. As it was, it took a crazy amount of effort and products just to maintain his normal appearance. After his third home dye job in two months, dripping wet and scrubbing pigment off his hands, Cisco wondered if this was how girls felt. God forgive him for any time he’d ever scoffed at the idea of makeup being a chore.

At least his dietary requirements had become less of a worry ever since running into his ex in a coffee shop.

Ravi actually looked pleased to see him, which Cisco figured was about 50% because they’d parted on good terms, and 50% because of the woman standing next to him. She grinned widely when Ravi introduced him as an old boyfriend and took the first opportunity to ask how old he was.

“Uh, twenty-four?” he replied slowly, wondering if there was a reason she cared so much.

Her smile morphed into a look of almost inappropriate wonderment. “I knew it,” she breathed. “Ravi, you’re a _cradle-robber_.”

Cisco thought that was a little unfair. After all, there were only… okay, like six years of difference between them, but he’d made up for some of those by graduating early, and anyway, it was technically Cisco who’d kissed him first. He started to explain that, probably about to overshare with a virtual stranger, but she held up a hand.

“Please, give me this. He already has _so much_ he can tease me about.”

Ravi rolled his eyes. “So what does that make me now?” he asked, giving the woman a dramatic once-over. “A grave robber?”

Interrupting whatever fond exasperation she was about to shoot back in what was sure to be a very sweet moment, Cisco choked on his coffee.

It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t entered his mind, when he first saw her. She was pale as death all over, possibly literally. Not to mention that she was holding a triple-spiced cider, the only item he could still order that actually tasted like anything. But the grave comment, well, she couldn’t be much older than Ravi. Probably a couple years younger.

“Are you—?” he started, then closed his mouth abruptly. It was a wild guess, and if he was wrong, then best case scenario, he’d look completely crazy. Worst case, if this girl was a member of the NRA, he might get a bullet through the head.

But she didn’t reach for a gun or even take a step back, just looked at him curiously. “Are _you_?” she asked in return.

He didn’t answer right away, but his face must have given up more than he meant it to, because Ravi chose that moment to suggest they go someplace quieter to talk.

She _was_ , as it turned out. And Cisco _was_ , of course. Ravi, he was relieved to find, was _not_. Though, he was very aware of their situation, and even working on ways to make it better.

“I should put you in touch with this woman I work with,” Cisco said. “She’d be great with this stuff. Although, she might freak out about why you need it.”

“Maybe we should keep the details fuzzy,” the woman, whose name happened to be Liv, put in. “At least for a while, if she doesn’t know about you.”

Cisco shook his head.

“How long have you _been_ a zombie, by the way?” Liv asked.

“About…” Cisco pretended to do some mental math, because people usually had to take a moment when asked for a time span. Because they usually hadn’t been counting the days. “Eight months.”

Ravi frowned. “Where have you been getting brains for that long? I thought you were working as an mechanical engineer.”

Cisco told them.

He kind of hated the way Ravi’s expression collapsed at the words. “Oh, Cisco…”

 

 

 

On a much brighter, much more pleasant day, Cisco sent Ravi a sharp salute as he leaned into the fridge to grab a tupperware container filled with semi-fresh human brain. “Savin’ my life, man,” he said gratefully.

“Always a nice change,” Ravi replied from where he was elbows deep in the latest corpse to land on his examination table. “Say, have you heard anything from Blaine lately?”

“Uh, no?” Cisco looks up from the fridge, where he’d been examining Liv’s latest brain-related cooking concoction (that girl had a way with these things). “Not since you guys started helping me out.” He waves the opaque plastic box in demonstration. “Which makes… about three months now. Why, was I supposed to?”

“Oh, no, no.” Ravi waved him off with a hand covered in blood and… other things. “We’ve just been… There’s been a thing. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Cisco frowned, about to explain that he did very much need to worry about that, when Liv came around the corner, ready to distract and embarrass him as she always did.

Sure enough: “No, because you just need to worry about that cute forensic scientist of yours, right, Cisco?” She winked at him.

“Um.”

“She’s on a fairly flirtatious brain right now,” Ravi explained. “You’ve got the same thing. Could have a bite before you go upstairs, if you like. It might give you an edge. Just remember, there is no condom known to man that protects against the zombie virus.”

“And what a shame that is,” Liv sighed, snapping on a pair of blue gloves and sidling up to Ravi.

“You two are terrible,” Cisco complained. He waved them goodbye and strode quickly out of the room, leaving them to their weird and incredibly gory day jobs. He didn’t give the idea of the romantically-inclined brain another thought.

Well, except for when he stepped into the bathroom for a quick bite, but only a tiny piece, and only to see if it tasted different, okay? It wasn’t like he needed the help, because A) he had plenty of game on his own, and B) he wasn’t flirting with Barry Allen anyway.

“Hey!” said Barry Allen, and Cisco immediately grinned wider than he had all day.

Damnit.

“Hey yourself.” Cisco tucked the tupperware container behind his back automatically. It was a solid yellow, so it wasn’t like Barry could see what was inside, but still, instinct kicked in. “How is…” Life? Family? The weather? “Crime?” Wow, that brain had obviously worked wonders.

Barry laughed. “Crime is as awful as ever, though a little bit slower this week. I think people are taking advantage of the sunshine to go outside and not murder each other.”

“Well, I guess that’s good.”

“Not for my continued employment,” Barry teased.

“Ah, you’ll be okay. Worst case scenario, shoot me a text and I’ll go out and steal a couple of chickens from a farm or something. Low probability of injury, and it’ll make one hell of a mess that only you can sort through.” Cisco shot him a sly smile, and, oh. There it was. That _had_ to be the brain.

“Don’t put yourself out on my account,” Barry said, gesturing to his desk, which was piled high with stacks of paper. “I’ve got plenty of filing to keep me busy.”

Cisco eyed the piles in disbelief. “Dude, I thought this precinct transferred over to an electronic system?”

Barry winced. “Yeah…”

“Two _years_ ago.”

“Yeah. Look, I never said I was the kind of person who got things done on time.”

“Right.” Cisco grinned. “So, if I asked you to go to the beach with me this Saturday, and you were running late, I shouldn’t take that personally?”

Barry’s eyes widened. “Um. You… want me to go to the beach with you?” he asked slowly, mouth turning up at the corner.

Crap, crap, crap. Cisco never should have touched that brain. “Uh, did I say the beach? And, Saturday? Because I…. have to work, Saturday. Yeah, all day. Damn.”

Now Barry just looked confused. Okay, yeah, Cisco definitely had to leave. Barry caught his shoulder before he could turn away. “Are you okay?”

“Sure.” Cisco laughed nervously. “Why wouldn’t I be.”

“I dunno, I…” Barry shook his head. “Nevermind. Rain check, maybe?” he said hopefully, and suddenly Cisco was someplace else.

_“Rain check?” a man said softly, from somewhere out of sight. Sight right now consisted of the end of a bed, two sets of foot-sized lumps, and some burgundy-and-gold interior design. “Great,” the man continued, and there was a click and the sound of things shifting. An arm came into view, curling around to pull them tight together. “Just us, then.”_

Cisco snapped back to the here and now in an instant, trying to hide the moment of instability by babbling through it. “Rain check, yes. I mean, not that it’s raining right now, but. Still. Totally. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He pulled himself out of Barry’s grasp and started for the elevator, calling over his shoulder, “Bye, Barry!”

“Bye,” Barry replied, lifting a hand in a half-hearted wave and still looking fairly disappointed.

Cisco breathed a sigh of relief when he was safely in the elevator. Well, that had been spectacularly awful, and now he got to feel guilty because it seemed like Barry actually wouldn’t be opposed to having something to do with him outside of their five-minute encounters when Cisco grabbed lunch from his workplace, but that couldn’t ever happen. The list of reasons why not started with differing opinions on the genius of Joss Whedon and ended with the fact that Cisco had basically sold his soul to a crazy murderer for eight months in exchange for not turning into an extra on The Walking Dead. Yeah, fantastic relationship material, right there.

Add to that the fact that the virus was communicable through the lightest of accidental scratches, and Cisco was starting to honestly wonder why he hadn’t gotten himself one of those transparent bubbles to roll around in all day. It would be a lot safer if he stayed far away from the general public.

It would be a lot safer if he stayed far away from Barry Allen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's what you need to know for this fic, if you've never seen iZombie:
> 
> Zombies are, basically, functional adult humans with pale skin and hair, extreme physical tolerance, anger issues, and a taste for brains (unless they don't receive said brains, then they go full-on Romero). It's highly contagious, and highly secret at the moment. Also, when a zombie eats someone's brain, they pick up certain personality traits and tidbits that the person possessed, as well as occasionally getting visions from their life.
> 
> Okay, you should be all set! Read away! (Also, check out iZombie if you have the chance. It's a really good show.)


	12. Day 12: High School AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even have an excuse this time. I know exactly what a High School AU is supposed to be.

The real tragedy of all this, Eobard thought, was that no one would ever give him enough credit for how much he planned, plotted, and prepared. He thought out every detail of the years that would lead to his journey home, because nothing could be left up to the whims of the universe. Little did his employees know that their job interviews hadn’t mattered in the least; he’d already decided where their lives would lead them years before.

 

Caitlin Snow was an obvious addition.

Her background in biochemistry and her particularly practical approach to interpersonal relationships would be invaluable when the Flash entered the picture. They would need her to patch him up, to help him adjust to his changing physiology, to add an air of sensibility to what would no doubt be a stunning display of heroic intentions. The trick, really, would be in convincing her that she was necessary for the part before that, the particle accelerator, which was an ostensibly physics-based project. So he arranged for his lab to open itself up for tours.

With an entire class of bored seventeen-year-olds, Caitlin wandered through the halls of STAR labs, still in its initial phase of construction. Her eyes didn’t glaze over quite as quickly as most of them did, during the discussion of the accelerator and the doors it could open in modern physics, but she was clearly struggling to find a way it could apply to her. Eobard knew she had her future well planned, that she was already accepted into her first choice of college and had a highly specific program well in mind. Gideon told him that she’d get into her first choice of graduate school, as well. After that, he knew where she’d end up.

“But it isn’t only an exercise in scientific curiosity,” Eobard continued, running a hand fondly along the wall of what would, one day, be the accelerator’s main chamber. “It’s a living thing.”

From somewhere in the middle of her group, Caitlin perked up to listen. Her eyes were sharp, her hair perfectly arranged, her schedule likely printed meticulously into the notebook she held to her chest. There was a woman who was always in control. If only she knew.

“This accelerator will carry some of the most core, most basic aspects of life as we know it, and it will unlock even more mysteries.” He wasn’t lying. He didn’t need to. “If we take care of it, it can tell us things about our own bodies that we’d only wondered at, before.”

There, that spark of interest in her eyes. He could work with that.

 

Ronnie Raymond was a calculated risk.

No matter how many times he asked Gideon, _demanded_ she give him a solid answer, the future seemed to shift even as he was looking right at it. Ronnie was dead, or he wasn’t, and he was happily in love with his new wife. Or he wasn’t, and he was missing somewhere, changed beyond recovery from the explosion. Or he wasn’t.

The frustration of not knowing was almost overwhelming until Eobard finally took a step back and forced himself to be calm. He wasn’t just _watching_ the future happen, he reminded himself. He was commanding it.

Ronnie would be useful, as much in his own right as a professional involved with the project as in the effect his disappearance would have on Dr. Snow. And he would disappear, because he had to. Together, the married couple might vanish after the explosion, might leave to restart their lives and try again in another city. Alone, Caitlin would cling to the last place she’d been with the man she loved.

Dead or mutated by the accelerator, Eobard didn’t much care what happened to Ronnie Raymond, as long as he was no longer around. If he did make it through that event (unlikely, given his proclivity toward grand gestures and the protection of others), well, there would be chaos immediately after such a widespread disaster. An well-timed accident wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows.

Eobard slipped into the back of the auditorium of a graduation ceremony, just in time to hear the announcer call out for “Ronald Raymond, graduating with honors,” to come to the stage. There he was, freshly eighteen and lit up with promise for the future, striding across the stage to thunderous applause from the audience, friends and family and teachers. He grinned and pumped the air as he received his diploma, getting a renewed chorus of cheers in response.

In a few years, Eobard would make sure a notice that STAR labs was hiring would be slipped his way, with exciting opportunities for leadership and a highly competitive salary. For now, let the boy enjoy college. They really were the best years of your life.

 

Hartley Rathaway was an easy target.

He was raised wealthy, given everything he could ever want, and frankly, he was an asshole, even at sixteen. But at that same age, he was figuring out that there was something inherently different about him than what his parents were expecting. Eobard could see the explosion coming from a thousand miles and eight years away.

Disowned and alone for the first time in his life, Hartley would be easily attracted to a job with a sense of importance, good pay, and a boss who behaved more like a father than was traditionally appropriate. If Eobard was lucky, he might even be attracted to Harrison Wells. That would make things so much easier.

Eobard looked into Hartley’s school records, and found a number of interesting facts. There were his grades, first of all, nothing less than top-notch, though the teachers’ notes on participation and attitude were less than glowing. There were his absences, some explained and some not. There was the boy who had been expelled last year on Hartley’s word that he had brought drugs into the school bathroom.

Eobard checked on that boy, as well. He was very handsome, for a teenager, and currently keeping his head down at a public school in the next district over. Eobard wondered how long the affair had lasted before the child had done something to ruin it.

Hartley, like Ronnie, wasn’t needed as much for the time after the explosion as for before, but unlike Ronnie, that deadline would not be enforced. His main purpose would be in speeding the project along (he was trying to get this done years ahead of schedule, after all), but Eobard wouldn’t be at all opposed to his continued presence, if things went well. Hartley was a self-serving boy, and he would be a self-serving man, and if Eobard could get his interests to line up with his own, well. It couldn’t hurt to have someone else on his side.

 

Cisco Ramon was a necessity, plain and simple.

There was his mechanical expertise, of course, visible even at age twelve (and verified through Gideon’s exploration of his projected future). There was his intelligence and ingenuity, obvious from the fact that he was already beginning his freshman year at Central City High. There was his enthusiasm and excitement, his loyalty, and the underlying current of insecurity that would make it all the more simple to recruit him.

Which he would, straight out of college if necessary. When the Flash emerged, they would need someone to make the suit, the tech, and it couldn’t just be Eobard himself. They would need a counterpart to Caitlin’s practicality, someone who would encourage Barry to be all he could be just because it looked so _cool_ , who would throw himself head-first into every new challenge. They would need an idealist.

But even without all of that, if Cisco had been the incredibly ordinary boy he was never meant to be in any universe, there was another factor that would have made him integral to Eobard’s plans, regardless. This was, of course, the effect he had on Barry Allen.

Barry was fifteen and Eobard had already been tracking every aspect of his life for four years. He’d monitored his grades, his health, and even slipped a little motivation to the courts so that Joe (a single parent with an unstable ex-wife and a history of CPS visits) would be able to finalize the adoption. He watched, now, as Barry trailed after Iris through the hallways of their high school, already hanging on her every word.

As they walked by, Cisco Ramon, searching through his locker for next period’s textbook, found himself shoved forward by a passing junior. He fell, and the books scattered, and Barry, unexpectedly, unbelievably, looked _away_ from Iris West.

“Are you okay?” he asked, frowning in the direction of the retreating junior and kneeling to help Cisco pick up his books.

“Fine,” Cisco muttered, face mostly hidden by a curtain of hair. “Thanks.”

They were only a single grade apart despite the age difference that made Cisco look like a middle schooler who’d accidentally wandered into the wrong building, but that was enough to minimize contact between them in a school this size. Eobard hadn’t thought they would ever meet, and even now, he doubted they would remember the event. He was ready to write it off as an anomaly — Barry had evolved a hero complex long before he gained the physical abilities to pull it off — until Cisco looked up and they were face to face.

Barry took one look at him and broke out into a wider smile than he’d managed in four years.

“Barry,” Iris called, already edging toward the end of the hall. “We’re gonna be late for math class.”

“Right,” he said, but he still hadn’t looked away. “Uh, you’re good? Okay, I, I should go.”

He pushed to his feet and offered Cisco a hand up, which was taken, after a moment. “Your friend,” Cisco reminded him, when he didn’t let go right away.

Barry jolted and shook his head, finally dashing off after Iris, but not without a glance backwards. Meanwhile, unwilling to push his luck any further, Cisco grabbed his book and slammed the locker shut, making his way quickly toward his own classroom. The moment was gone.

But Eobard had seen, and he knew what it meant. When Barry became the Flash, his whole world would change, just as it needed to change. Eobard had spent a lot of time and energy ensuring that he would land just right, but there was one thing, still that one thing that could pull him back to his old routines and ruin the hold that Dr. Wells would have over his life, and that was Iris West.

Barry’s obsession with her was brushing the edge of unhealthy, the way he revolved around her: her choice in friends, her college aspirations, her future plans. But he was unwilling to see it and break himself away, too devoted to the woman he already loved. Eobard would need something to cleave through the center of that bond (that was easy enough, since Iris wasn’t a person who tolerated secrets well), and something else to catch him when he fell forward.

That was where Cisco came in.

 

It wasn’t as though it was a terrible future, Eobard thought to himself, as he placed Cisco Ramon’s file beside the others he was accumulating for future employment, as he called in a recommendation for a transfer to a private school system (best that the two of them not meet too soon). In truth, he was being kind. He was giving this boy a career, a home, and someone to love. And Cisco would never know, would never have any idea that it was given with such personal care.

There was love in every move he made.

 


	13. Day 13: "Our Suit"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first thought upon seeing this prompt was: but I already [wrote that one!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3696290) It took me some time to come up with another idea for the same general prompt, but I'm pretty happy with what I ended up with.

“Absolutely not.”

Barry whined, draping himself dramatically over the chair beside Cisco’s. “Why not?”

Cisco pushed himself back from the desk to face him fully, because this matter required the strictest attention. “So many reasons, take your pick. The list starts with the fact that hero tech is _my_ area of expertise and ends with why would you even want to? There is no way I’m letting you design my own superhero suit, dude.”

“Okay, first of all,” Barry said, holding up one finger, “I said nothing about doing the tech, that’s all you, although I did have an idea for the gloves…” He shook his head, getting back on track. “Anyway, just the suit part, you get to fill it up yourself. And second.” Another finger went up. “You designed _my_ suit, so it’s only fair I do yours.”

“Dude, no offense? But the difference in our skill sets isn’t just mechanical. I saw you last Halloween, don’t you forget it. You literally draped a bedsheet over your head and called yourself a ghost, so you’ll excuse me if I doubt your ability to pull together a decent crime-fighting outfit.”

Barry put a hand over his heart. “Offense _taken_ , man, you know I had makeup on underneath, that was the whole _point_. Take off the sheet and you’re left with a corpse.”

“Oh. Right. Guess I forgot; you just don’t seem like the type to come up with something so morbid.” That seemed more like Caitlin’s kind of thing, actually. She’d told him some pretty crazy stories from her graduate school days. Like the one with the pig fetus, oh man, he had to tell Barry that one.

“‘Tis the season.” Barry shrugged. “Or, ‘twas, anyway. But really, I can do this. And you’ll have total veto power, so if you hate it, you can just scrap it and make your own. Please?”

The problem was, Cisco knew, that if he let Barry do this, he _wouldn’t_ be able to take it back and do the job himself. Not with those big brown doe eyes staring at him pleadingly. Just like they were doing right now… Damnit. He sighed. “Okay, fine, you get one shot. _One_. It better be good.”

 

 

“I changed my mind,” Cisco said, staring at the monstrosity on a coat hanger that Barry held in front of him. “You’re fired.”

It was entirely made of spandex, it displayed most of the wearer’s chest, and it looked like something Barry had picked out from a warehouse of eighties rejects. What the hell had he even been thinking?

“Wait!” Barry said desperately, blocking Cisco’s path to the exit. “Wait, wait, you can’t count this one. It’s not my fault, Caitlin _blackmailed_ me. She’s evil, Cisco.”

“You want me to believe that this was all—” He broke off as Caitlin appeared in the doorway, frowning sternly. “...Cait?”

“That’s for telling Barry the pig fetus story,” she said, and stalked off.

“Holy crap, she can be scary,” Barry muttered.

Cisco just stared after her.

 

 

When Barry came up to him the second time, Cisco just frowned. “I thought I fired you.”

“Extenuating circumstances, man. Besides, this one is way better, but you have to promise you’ll actually try it on.” Barry held up the hanger and swung it back and forth, raising his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Cisco said, snatching the suit from Barry’s hand.

“And you have to show me, too!” Barry called, as Cisco disappeared into the bathroom.

With the door firmly locked (because Barry looked nearly excited enough to bust his way in and try to help), Cisco started pulling on the pieces of the costume. He grumbled when he realized that, like the first one, this was mostly spandex. At least it covered his chest, this time. He pulled on the boots and checked the mirror to make sure he’d done everything right. And. Well.

In theory, Cisco knew this was where things were heading. First, there were the visions, which meant he was a meta, but mostly in a backup capacity. Then, instead of just _getting_ vibes, he’d shot a whole wave of vibrational impulses out of his bare hand (suck it, Hartley). Eventually, it had been less terrifying to just lean into it full-tilt.

Standing here in a full costume, with a mask and a belt and a symbol on his chest, felt a little bit different in practice.

He swallowed hard, but then Barry was yelling for him to get out there already, so he took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Outside, Barry was grinning like an idiot, and it only got more intense when he caught sight of Cisco.

“The shoes are just temporary,” was what he said first. “I’m still looking for a better pair; they’re hard to find. Also, you look awesome.”

Was he kidding? This stuff was weird. And… clingy. “No spandex.”

Barry’s face fell. “Oh, c’mon…”

“Okay, _less_ spandex,” Cisco corrected. Reasonable expectations, and all that.

“You didn’t apply that line of thinking to _my_ suit,” Barry complained.

“Because you’re a speedster.” Cisco tugged on one arm of the outfit, frowning at the stretch. “You need the aerodynamics, but I don’t. Also, I don’t have your healing factor. You gotta give me some padding, dude.”

“Fine, fine. Any other notes?”

“Yeah, ditch the bulls-eye.”

Barry sputtered. “Bu— That’s a _sonic wave_. It’s like, your whole thing!”

“Well, it looks like a bulls-eye.” Cisco gestured to his chest, the front of which was emblazoned with a series of circles, one within the next. “It’s basically a flashing neon sign to criminals: Shoot me right here! I’m not bullet-proof!”

“You’re doubting me. I can see you doubting me.” Barry pointed an accusing finger at Cisco. “Don’t forget, I’m the one who came up with your code name, _Vibe _.”__

 

 

Finally, Barry returned with something a little more modern. Apparently, he was insisting on the color scheme, because the black, yellow and red was the only thing that had been kept constant from the start. Cisco had a sneaking suspicion the colored accents were a nod to Barry’s own suit. The rest, Cisco had to admit, was vastly improved.

The pants were still on the tight side, though loose enough to move, and the shirt had plenty of padding, as requested. It even made it look like he might actually have abs. Of course, that effect was somewhat ruined by another area.

“Why did you leave this thing with bare arms?” Cisco asked, examining the place where the sleeves ended just after the shoulder.

“Oliver pulls it off.”

“Oliver is _built_ ,” Cisco replied. “Have you seen me? I can’t make this work.” He lifted an arm, making the best muscle he could to demonstrate. Pitiful.

Barry didn’t answer for a moment, so Cisco waved a hand in his face.

“Yo.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “You’ll grow into it, though. Fight criminals for a couple months and you’ll either had some muscle definition or you’ll be dead.” He chuckled half-heartedly, but it trailed off into a awkward silence. They weren’t supposed to be worrying about that part, yet.

“Well,” said Cisco, breaking through the moment. “I like the vest. And the shoes.” Barry had found a better pair, this time: steel-toed, good treads, black with a streak of red up the side that Cisco suspected he’d put on himself. “I think I need a hood, though.”

“A hood? Why?”

“Do you know how many Columbian superheroes there are around right now?” No, Barry did not. “Like, zero. Add to that the long hair, which I am not chopping off for this, and trust me, it’s way harder for me to blend in than yet another anonymous white guy.”

Barry nodded. “Okay, point.”

“And, uh.” Cisco gestured with his bare hands. “Gloves?”

“Working on it.”

 

 

Barry knocked on his door at three in the morning. Now, Cisco wasn’t exactly slow at answering the door, but it must have been too long for Barry, because he was standing in the living room by the time Cisco got out of bed.

Cisco frowned, looking between the door and Barry. “How did you get in here. I did lock the door, right?”

“I picked the lock.” Barry shrugged.

“You can _do_ that?”

“Not really. It took me a while.” Bouncing from foot to foot, Barry held out a pair of gloves and shook them a little when Cisco didn’t take them immediately. “Let’s go, man, try them on.”

Cisco stared at him. “Right _now_?”

“I worked on these for weeks, and they’re done. Yes, now.”

“Oh, my God. Make me some coffee.”

Barry grinned and zipped over to the kitchen while Cisco examined the gloves. They looked a little big. Still, he pulled them on, because anything that brought Barry over at this time was either exciting enough to be tolerated or annoying enough to be quickly satisfied before sending him home. And, wow. They were actually _really_ nice.

“Like ‘em?” Barry said, back and holding a steaming cup of coffee. (Cisco wasn’t going to ask him how he’d done that so quickly. Friction? Magic? Some things were better left as great mysteries of time.)

“Yeah. They fit… really well.” Apparently they only looked big on the outside. “How’d you do that?”

“I know your hands, dude.”

“What?”

“What?” Barry cleared his throat, pointing back to the gloves. “I mean, check it out, they’re reinforced, because punching hurts like hell if you’re not used to it, but they’ve got some give, _and_ ,” he added, pausing dramatically before he finished his sentence, “they’re structured so they should amplify the waves you can throw off, now.”

“Seriously?” Cisco flexed his fingers, considering the gloves anew. “Nice. I am definitely gonna spend some time testing that out tomorrow.”

Barry spread his hands. “Why not right now?”

Was he kidding? No, no he wasn’t. That was definitely Barry’s serious face. “Uh, because I like my apartment the way it is? Without my furniture being repurposed as firewood or possibly a small hole in the wall?” Okay, so he was exaggerating, unless Barry’s invention was particularly impressive, but he’d probably break at least a few glasses, maybe crack the drywall.

“So point it at me,” Barry said, like it was a logical explanation instead of literally the worst suggestion ever said out loud. “What?” he continued, clearly seeing Cisco’s feelings on the matter in the look on his face. “I’ll live.”

“Yes, technically.” Cisco sighed. “Okay, okay. Just a little one. And then, oh my God, you have to let me sleep.”

“Fair. Hit me.” Barry leaned forward a little, bracing himself.

Cisco shook out his hands, gearing up. He had to do this right; he wasn’t completely used to it, yet. Deep breath, and out.

Barry hit the wall faster than Cisco could blink.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Cisco rushed to his side, feeling very awake all of a sudden.

“That was _awesome_. They totally work!” Barry winced as he straightened, but grinned nonetheless.

“Dude, tell me you brought the rest of it.”

Barry was gone, and then back three seconds later. “Now I did. Put it on.”

It took a little longer to put everything in place with the gloves on, but honestly Cisco couldn’t be expected to take them off, not now. This was way too cool. Okay, boots, pants, shirt, check. He’d have to add a couple things to the belt, but that could come later.

“There’s a hood now,” Barry pointed out.

“I saw.” He flipped it up. “Where’s the mask.”

“Oh, yeah.” Barry reached for his back pocket. “Made a couple adjustments to that. too.”

Boy, did he. ‘Mask’ might not be the best word for it anymore. It was more like a wide pair of sunglasses, dark enough to cover his eyes completely. This should hide his identity, if anything would short of wearing a sack over his head. And they kind of looked like…

“That’s okay, right?” Barry said nervously, when Cisco didn’t put them on immediately. “I mean, I know it’s not the best memory, so it’s totally cool if you don’t want to, but it’s—”

“Where it all started,” Cisco finished. Caitlin must have known about this too, he realized, if Barry had cannibalized her dream-walking glasses to make this, a reminder of the first time he’d taken control of his powers. He hadn’t even known what they meant.

He slipped them on. Despite the dark lining, he could see through the lenses perfectly. Barry slumped in relief at his acceptance of the gesture, then straightened again and held up a finger to wait. He dashed away, and was back shortly after, fully outfitted in his own suit. “Okay, now you can check in the mirror.”

When Cisco did, Barry was beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and the effect was kind of intense. If it had started to feel real before, it was hitting him like a freight train, now. There was the Flash, ready to kick butt and save Central City, and there was Cisco — Vibe — standing next to him. He looked like he actually belonged there. Not just a kid in a costume, but someone who could go out and do something with it.

“Wow.”

“You look awesome,” Barry said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Cisco turned to face him, trying to figure out a way to say thank you, but he couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t feel totally inadequate. He just stared at Barry, hoping he’d get it. Maybe he did.

He was interrupted by a buzz from the couch: his phone, where he’d dropped it while changing. He picked it up and checked the alert screen. “Jewelry store on 18th,” he said, relating the news over his shoulder to Barry. “If you wanna run me by STAR on the way, I can do comms backup. I’m not gonna get back to sleep now, anyway.”

“I could do that,” Barry said. “Or you could just come with me.”

Cisco froze. He hadn’t planned on that; they’d never planned on that. Despite the code name, the costume, all field activity was strictly theoretical, for now. Sure, someday, but…

“They’re probably not metahumans,” Barry offered, taking a step toward Cisco. “Might not even be big on guns, if they’re pulling this in the middle of the night. You’ve gotta start somewhere. And,” he gestured to Cisco, head to toe, “you’re already wearing the suit.”

Cisco closed his eyes briefly. What was that he’d been talking about earlier? About jumping in headfirst? “Okay.”

Barry smiled. “Okay.” He moved in close, getting an arm around Cisco to speed them away. Cisco did his best to keep breathing.

“Caitlin’s gonna kill us,” he reminded Barry.

“Yeah, but not until tomorrow morning. Tonight’s gonna be awesome.”

Cisco nodded. “Let’s go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, [this](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/c/c9/Vibe_0001.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150423173541) is the first option Barry comes back with (aka Caitlin's Revenge), the second is a much tamer version of the same, and the third and final incarnations are basically his modern [comic outfit](http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140723205046/marvel_dc/images/1/19/Justice_League_of_America's_Vibe_Vol_1_1_Textless.jpg), with a couple of tweaks here and there.


	14. Day 14: Guilt/Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the break between Seasons 1 and 2.

Friday night found Barry knocking on his boyfriend’s apartment door. At least, he _thought_ Cisco was still his boyfriend, though they hadn’t spoken outside of a few scattered text messages in a week and a half, and he’d just been stood up for their weekly date. So, he might have to play this one by ear.

It was a solid minute before Cisco answered the door. “What.”

“Um.” Cisco looked fine, not hurt, which blew Barry’s first and most worrying theory about why he hadn’t shown up tonight. The remaining options were that he’d forgotten, or he was pissed, and the look on his face narrowed it down. “You weren’t at Jitters,” Barry finished half-heartedly.

Cisco raised an eyebrow. “You _were_ at Jitters?”

“Well, yeah. It’s Friday. We always meet at—”

“Because you haven’t been at Jitters for the past three weeks,” Cisco continued, ignoring Barry’s words, “and you’ve been texting me the lamest excuses possible for skipping out, so I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to assume you wouldn’t show up tonight, either.” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, and waited for a response.

“I— You’re right. I’m sorry.” Barry swallowed. “Can I… come in?”

Cisco studied him for a moment, then sighed, stepping back into the apartment. “Yeah, sure.”

Closing the door behind him, Barry took a few steps inside and surveyed the living room. It was messy, but the green blanket was still folded neatly over the back of the couch, because Barry hadn’t been here to pull it down. “I brought coffee,” he said, holding it up. “I thought maybe we could do, like, a night in, instead. Netflix?”

“Alright.” Cisco accepted the offered drink, plucking it from Barry’s hands. “But we’re watching ‘Z Nation’ and you’re not gonna complain.”

Barry held up his hands in surrender. Zombies were more Cisco’s thing than his, but he’d have agreed to pretty much any viewing material at that moment. As he headed for the couch, his phone buzzed. “Oh, one sec.” He checked the screen. It was an alert he’d programmed in this morning; his sample was done processing. Well, he could get that later.

“Who’s that?” Cisco asked, digging through the cupboards for, Barry assumed, popcorn.

“No one.”

Cisco glanced over his shoulder. “No one?”

“Yeah, nothing. Just, Flash stuff,” he muttered.

Cisco shut the cupboard. He turned and leaned back against the counter, but it was a tense position, and it didn’t look at all comfortable. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that guy who could conduct electricity, would it? The guy I know you were off fighting last week, no matter what you said about your case load, and the one who’s been popping up all over town for days?”

When he put it like that, it wasn’t as if Barry could deny it. He shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“Right,” Cisco said, very slowly. “But did it occur to you that I wouldn’t mind being busy, too? I mean.” He gestured to his apartment, huffing a laugh. “I’m an unemployed twenty-something; I’ve got time in my life.”

Barry bit his lip. “It wasn’t a big deal, really…”

“Right, that’s why the guy’s still running around town at all hours.”

“And, and you had other things to do, probably had plans—”

“Yeah, with _you_.”

“And he’s _dangerous_ and I didn’t want—”

“Stop,” Cisco said loudly. “Barry, I swear to God, if you finish that sentence, I am kicking you out of my apartment.”

Barry shut his mouth, but he didn’t bother looking contrite. His point had clearly been made, and he stuck by it.

Groaning, Cisco let his head fall forward into his hands. “Shit, I love you, but you have been such a pain in the ass lately.”

Now Barry frowned. “ _I’ve_ been a pain in the ass? How? By trying to protect you?”

“By making _decisions_ for me,” Cisco said, head snapping back up to fix sharp eyes on Barry. “If I want to play it safe, I know how to do that, but if I want to help you—”

“You’d get yourself killed,” Barry finished harshly.

“Wow. Nice to know the kind of faith you have in me.”

“That’s not what I—” Barry broke off, frustrated. He took a deep breath, passing a hand over his face. “It’s not you, it’s _me_ , it’s always me. Ronnie? Eddie? All those civilians who got hurt because there were a billion tons of debris flying up into a giant hole in space? That’s my fault.”

Cisco just shook his head. “You weren’t the only one making decisions that day, Barry. We were all there.”

“But I’m the one who created the singularity,” Barry reminded him. “I did that.”

“Or Thawne did that, by giving you terrible advice,” Cisco countered. “Or maybe it was Eddie; I mean, he created the paradox.”

Barry jerked his head to the side. “That’s not—”

“You know, your constant dismissal of other people’s actions is not as attractive as you think it is. It’s kind of self-centered, actually. We _all_ did this. And then we fixed it, as well as we could.”

“Please,” Barry snorted. “You didn’t even want me to go.”

“Maybe not, but I supported it anyway. And if I really wanted to stop you, I could have done something. I could’ve…” Cisco grasped at the air as he rushed to get his words out out. “Called in a bomb threat and distracted you, or sabotaged Wells’ time machine, or given you a freaking sedative.” There wasn’t a second of hesitation in the list; he must have thought about this before. “But I didn’t, and people died. It sucked.”

“Exactly,” Barry said desperately. “And I’m just trying to stop that from happening again. This stuff is dangerous, you know that.”

Cisco rolled his eyes. “I think I can handle sitting behind a desk and looking up blueprints, Barry.”

“You got kidnapped,” Barry snapped.

“That’s—”

“And it’s not even just that,” Barry sped on, recklessly now, pouring out everything he could think of to just make Cisco _stop_. “Everyone involved with this, involved with _me_ , is practically walking themselves right off the side of a building. It doesn’t matter how much you try to keep things safe, I shouldn’t be working with anyone. I shouldn’t even be—” Barry stopped, breathless. The whole time they’d been arguing, Cisco had stood in the kitchen, and Barry hadn’t moved from beside the couch. It felt much further away, now.

“You shouldn’t _what_ , Barry?” Cisco asked quietly, after a silence that stretched and stretched. “Shouldn’t be with me at all? Is that what you want?”

Barry stayed silent. It was what he’d almost said, what he’d been thinking for weeks, but God, no, it wasn’t what he _wanted_.

“If you want to go, then _go_ ,” Cisco said, gesturing jerkily toward the door.

Barry didn’t move. He should, he knew that. He should leave Cisco alone, because his was being a jerk, and he was going to get him killed. But his feet wouldn’t move. He didn’t want to leave.

Finally, Cisco slumped, all the energy draining out of him at once. “Fine,” he said tiredly. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said all summer. Why start now?” He shuffled toward the bedroom, taking a wide arc around Barry. “You can stay here if you want. Take the couch. I’m tired; I’m going to bed.”

For hours after the door to the bedroom shut behind Cisco, Barry sat on the couch, huddled beneath the green blanket. What was he doing?

Either he was being a jerk, and he needed to talk to Cisco and fix things up and stay, or he was being a jerk for a very good reason, and he needed to leave for good. One or the other, toward the door or toward his boyfriend, but instead he just sat in limbo on the couch, thinking.

It was nearly two in the morning, with no sign of sleep anywhere on the horizon, when Barry was jerked from his thoughts by a short, sharp yell from the bedroom, followed by a thud. He jerked to his feet, instantly alert. What was—?

Oh. A nightmare. It had been almost a month since Barry had spent the night, but he remembered some of the trouble Cisco had been having with sleeping for more than three hours in a row. He winced. Clearly, it hadn’t gotten much better in the weeks they’d spent apart. He could go see if Cisco was alright, but Cisco probably had his own methods of dealing with it now, alone…

He wavered a couple steps closer to the door and heard a soft choking sound from inside. Okay, that was it.

“Cisco?”

Cisco looked up quickly from where he’d had his head buried in his arms and pushed down into his knees. “Wha— Barry? Shit.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’m— Are you—” He was trying to get something else out, probably tell Barry to go back to the couch or something, but it wasn’t coming.

“Do you want some water?” Barry offered.

He nodded.

Barry was back with the glass of water in a flash, holding it out, but Cisco ignored it and just reached for his shirt sleeve. He placed the glass on the nightstand before letting himself be tugged down into bed. Instinctively, he curved himself around Cisco, wrapping him up as much as he possibly could. Cisco’s heart beat fast where their chests were pressed together.

They breathed for a minute. Then Cisco shifted a little, speaking somewhere in the area of his shoulder. “I know it’s not easy. I’m probably not giving you enough credit. I mean, I can’t even imagine watching your mom…”

Barry swallowed hard, fingers flexing against Cisco’s arm. He was glad Cisco hadn’t finished that sentence.

“So, you’re allowed to feel shitty about it all, okay? You’re just… not allowed to shut me out.” Cisco sighed. “Maybe I’m having kind of a bad summer, too.”

“I know,” Barry said, even though he didn’t, because he’d barely been around, hadn’t seen most of the nighttime panic and tough mornings and random bursts of irritation. He didn’t really know what Cisco meant by a ‘bad summer.’ He’d have to spend some time around here if he wanted to find out.

“Okay,” Cisco said anyway. “Okay.” He held on tighter.

Barry did the same. He wasn’t letting go.

 


	15. Day 15: Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. It's late and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I just spent two hours helping my brother long-distance cram his final paper for a class and I'm super tired. Night, y'all.

It was a good thing Barry didn’t care that much about James Bond, because he couldn’t have focused on the movie if his life depended on it. For most of its runtime, this was for a completely innocuous reason: they’d made it to the movie theater, and he _still_ wasn’t sure if this was a date.

So, they’d been dancing around it for a few weeks with no conclusions in sight, but they were actually in a movie theater instead of just grabbing coffee at Jitters, and they had vague plans of grabbing a bite afterwards, which was kind of the standard, right? Either that, or Barry was reading way too much into things, and Cisco just wanted a friend to come with him to watch Daniel Craig track down terrorists and hitmen. Yeah, probably the second one.

Anyway, that was all well and good for the first half of the movie — Cisco paying rapt attention, Barry fidgeting and wondering if it would be horribly out of place for him to grab Cisco’s hand — but then the universe had to go and ruin it.

At first, it looked like some very rude man had gotten bored with the movie and decided to stand up, then forgotten to do anything after that. “The hell is he doing?” Cisco muttered, leaning to the side a little even though the man was far enough toward the front that he wasn’t really blocking the screen.

“Is he okay?” Barry followed Cisco’s lead, trying to get a good view on the guy, but it was too dark. Suddenly, he turned around to face the rows of seats and whipped open his jacket, pulling out a gun. “Oh, no.”

People started screaming immediately. Barry wasn’t surprised, he would have expected worse panic than this, but no one even got up out of their seats. Instead, everyone stayed right where they were, yelling and clutching each other and ducking down. Barry didn’t move, either.

He should be moving.

He looked down at his feet, frantically wondering if something had stuck them to the floor, but no, nothing, he could get up any time now, but… Just the thought of standing from this chair made a thick stream of panic run through him, and it only got worse the longer he tried, until he was shaking much too hard to support his weight, anyway. He turned to Cisco for help, and found his friend bent over in his seat, hands over his head.

“Cisco,” he hissed, jerking a hand up to grab Cisco’s shoulder. In response, Cisco flung out an arm wildly, headed for Barry’s nose. He caught it (or, smacked it aside gracelessly, which was still an impressive response given how much adrenaline was coursing through his system) and shook Cisco, repeating his name louder and louder until Cisco finally snapped his head up to see Barry. Sort of.

“Barry?” he said, like he couldn’t tell who was sitting right in front of him, but the theater wasn’t _that_ dark. “I can’t… Fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

Barry looked back at the man at the front of the room, realizing his attention had been away for too long. But the man was just standing there, not even lifting his weapon, only gazing out at the packed theater with an intense look in his eyes that could be seen even from rows away. Behind him, James Bond made his way through a casino, smiling at girls in low-cut dresses.

Again, Barry tried to raise himself from his seat, and failed. This time, he was certain it had something to do with the man’s gaze, like it was pushing him physically back into the chair, forcing his heart to beat faster. “Cisco, come on…”

“I can’t see,” Cisco said gruffly, the first coherent statement he’d been able to make, and Barry’s heart, already working overtime, nearly stopped. “I mean, I can,” he amended, and Barry breathed again, “but it’s all… It’s like, non-stop visions over here.” He made an odd sound that could have been a laugh or a cough. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s just standing there.” Barry looked around. People should have started to quiet down by now, waiting to see what would happen, but everyone still seemed to be in the same state of blind panic as when the man had first turned. What _was_ he doing? “No, wait, he’s moving.” Slowly, calmly, down the front row of the theater, reaching down every so often, but obviously not hurting anyone, because there was hardly any reaction to his proximity. “He’s just taking their wallets,” Barry said, though Cisco didn’t seem to be following the line of narration.

The gun wasn’t even pointed at anyone, but Barry was still breathing faster than should be humanly possible, even for him.

The lack of immediate danger didn’t seem to calm Cisco, either, who now had his hands pressed over his ears, gritting his teeth. “I wish they’d just _shut up_ ,” he said harshly, and a second later, they did.

Barry whipped his head around, trying to figure out why the noise had stopped. What had changed? From the looks of it: nothing. Everyone was still freaking out, still stuck to their seats, still screaming, but, silently. He blinked, then looked back to Cisco. “Did you do that?” It would have been a calm question — they were still figuring out what Cisco could do and it was usually best not to get him worked up over the new stuff — but, like everything Barry was saying now, it was saturated in panic.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Cisco was shaking, and if he could, Barry thought he would be jumping out of the seat and rushing right out of the building.

It was like being in a bubble, an invisible wall. Everything outside it was clearly chaos, but in here it was just their voices. It certainly made it easier to talk. “Deep breaths,” Barry said, as much to himself as to Cisco. He forced himself to stare at the man, hoping it would work like exposure therapy, so that when he looked away he’d be able to stand up.

The man was moving oddly, he realized. Not in general, because his steps were measured and sure, but his hands. He always seemed to have too many of them, or too few. He’d reach out with one hand, grab someone’s purse, and then take out the cash with the other hand, except, then where was he holding the gun? And as soon as Barry wondered about it, he spotted the gun, back in the first hand along with the purse. But hadn’t it been in his other hand before?

“I don’t think it’s real,” Cisco said quietly.

“It’s not,” Barry assured him, still staring at the man’s hands, trying to figure out what was going wrong. “It’s just the vibes.”

“Not _that_.” Cisco groaned in annoyance, and Barry glanced over (it was a relief to look away) to find him looking up once again. He gestured vaguely in the direction of the man — actually, slightly to the left of the man — and squinted. “He has a gun, right? Only he doesn’t actually have a gun. I can see… Ugh, it’s like a kaleidoscope. Everything’s overlapping, and I think half of this crap is from Earth-2.”

“He _doesn’t_ have a gun?” Barry looked back at the man, and his hands made that confusion motion again, and the gun wavered for a second. It was almost enough for Barry to stand up, but he was slumped down and breathing hard a moment later. “He’s doing this,” Barry said. “All of it. Making everyone afraid, making us see things. I think that’s why you’re, uh.”

“Having a psychic freak-out?” Cisco finished. Now that he’d pointed out the problem with the gun, his head fell back into his hands and his voice came out muffled. Barry put a concerned hand on his shoulder, and felt him shudder in response. As scared as Barry felt right now, he was certain, somewhere in his mind, that he’d be fine as soon as the mist of panic lifted. But Cisco’s visions, they still didn’t know much about them.

“I thought we weren’t using the word ‘psychic.’”

“Well, it’s _something_ , and it sure as hell isn’t normal,” Cisco shouted, voice rising to a new volume as he winced under another wave of visions.

Barry glanced around them furtively, as though someone was going to jump to their feet and accuse them of being metas right now. Probably a result of the fear response, because no matter how loud Cisco’s voice sounded in their little bubble, it was nothing compared to the sound that must have been going on in the room right now, as the man made his way down the fourth and fifth rows of seats. Barry’s eyes widened. Wait a minute.

“Cisco,” Barry said, shaking his shoulder urgently. “Cisco, the sound thing, could you do that in reverse?”

“What?” Cisco panted.

“Could you let out, like, a _big_ sound wave? Like an alarm or something? If we could break his concentration for a minute, I think I could stand up. All I need is a second.”

Cisco didn’t seem to have heart anything past ‘sound wave.’ His face was screwed up in either concentration or discomfort. “Noise. Okay. I can… try. When?”

“Wait a minute,” Barry said. If this even worked, which was a long-shot, there was no way to guarantee a long-term result. He wanted to be close.

Cisco’s fingers flexed against the armrest, so tight they were losing all color. Barry grabbed them and held them himself, to stop Cisco from breaking something (like the armrest, or maybe a finger). His hand was more malleable than the plastic, and even if Cisco managed to do some damage, it would heal within the hour.

He watched the man make his way up two more rows, trying his best to breathe evenly, feet juttering against the floor in anticipation. Having a plan made him feel a bit more grounded, but a _lot_ more nervous. After this, he might sleep for two days just to get over the adrenaline rush. “Almost,” he muttered, but quietly, because any noise now might be interpreted as a ‘go’ signal. Cisco was looking less and less able to distinguish between words.

Almost.

The man was two seats down, then one, and when Barry looked up, the gun had morphed into the Cold gun, pointed straight at him. He choked on a breath, then he blinked and it was gone, just the fear giving him ideas. Then the man was taking a step forward and reaching for Barry’s jacket. “Now!”

For a moment, nothing happened, and Barry wondered why he’d asked Cisco to do something they had no idea if he could do. Then, everything happened, all at once. The burst of sound was deafening, and if Barry hadn’t been expecting it, he would have doubled over himself and crawled under the seat to get away from it. As it was, that was what most people tried to do.

The man standing in front of Barry fell back in shock, the gun falling — no, vanishing — from his hands. And suddenly, Barry’s heart slowed down, and he could move. He was up from his seat in an instant, slamming into the man and pushing him out into the open, onto the floor. He didn’t bother to watch how hard the man’s head hit the aisle; after all, as long as he was conscious, who knew what else he’d be able to do.

When the man slumped down with a groan, Barry put a hand over the man’s eyes, just in case. He wasn’t sure that was where the power came from, but there was something in them that was dangerously sharp.

People around them were already starting to recover from their panic, some dashing immediately for the exits now that they were able to move again, some hiding under their seats, some who only continued to sit down and yell. One retreating patron caught his foot on Barry’s arm, and it slipped away from the man’s eyes for a moment. The man lifted himself slightly, and Barry started to feel cold, frightened.

Something came in from the side and slammed down on top of the man, sending him back to the ground, this time entirely unconscious. “You are so completely done with that shit,” Cisco said, and kicked lightly at his arm for good measure. The man didn’t stir.

“Thanks,” Barry said. “Are you good?”

“Sure,” said Cisco grumpily. “Also, I know, like, every Superbowl winner from every universe, so there’s that.” He leaned down and put a hand on the man’s wrist to take his pulse, sighing at the imposition. “This douche makes us all freak out for like ten minutes and then I have to go and check on— Aah!” He fell backward suddenly.

“What?” Barry twisted hard, trying to get a good look at Cisco without letting go of the man or taking his hand off of his closed eyes. “What’s wrong.”

“ _Asshole_ ,” Cisco spat. “He’s already seen this movie. Now I know how it ends!”

Barry laughed, startled. “Wow, sorry. So this is like, _officially_ the worst date ever then, right?” He froze as soon as he said it, feeling cold. Was the man somehow still awake? No, that was just his own, regular terror that he’d blown it.

“Na,” Cisco said after a moment. “Lisa was worse.”

“Oh.” Not a big step up, but okay, Barry would take that. “The next one’ll be better. Promise.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, until the show defines Cisco's powers any more than "vague, touch-based (but sometimes not) visions," I'm going to have as much fun with them as I want to, damnit.


	16. Day 16: Dark Side AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Super late. "Today's" drabble will be shifted a day ahead as well, because it's been a WILD and busy week, and I'm tired. But rest assured, I will catch up over the weekend and I do plan to complete each day.
> 
> (A couple of warnings for this chapter, found at the end notes if you want to check them out before reading.)

Joe shot three time at Harrison Wells, and Barry’s first and only thought was: no, he couldn’t die, because a dead man couldn’t give a confession. He caught the last bullet, hands burning from the friction, just over the rim of what should have been a shield that kept him out. It wasn’t working, Barry realized; Wells must have tampered with it somehow, and that was how he’d gotten in. Barry let the bullets fall to the floor with a series of soft _clinks_.

When he looked up, Wells was smiling at him, twisted and cold. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said. His hand was around Cisco’s neck.

Barry froze. They were off-script, now, but Wells had no reason to hurt Cisco. He’d only done so in the other timeline because he hadn’t wanted Barry finding out about him and, well, obviously it was way too late for that. Any second now, Wells would either take off running or come straight for Barry, and he needed to be ready. He couldn’t make a move until Wells did; he wasn’t fast enough to have time for correction, and he couldn’t risk something happening to Cisco before he could get there.

“I wonder what you would do,” Wells said, to the utter stillness of the room, “to save your family.” He turned to Cisco, who was standing very still, one hand reflexively grasping the wrist that pressed against his neck. “What you would sacrifice.”

Barry jerked forward automatically, unnerved, but the moment he took his first step, he saw Wells’ hand tighten, and he stopped.

“I hope you remember that Barry Allen saved my life,” Dr. Wells murmured, still looking only at Cisco. His voice would have been quiet, but it echoed in the silent room. “I hope you remember that he allowed this to happen.”

There was a sharp _crack_. For months after, the thing that would bother Barry most was that he could never be sure what made the sound, whether it was the snap of Cisco’s neck, or the moment of his skull hitting the floor. It was over in an instant, and Barry wasn’t fast enough to see it happen. He was never fast enough, not compared with the Man in Yellow.

Wells vanished, but Barry, caught in a moment of shock, wasn’t so prepared to follow him anymore. He didn’t even think to start moving until Joe had pushed passed him, but he beat everyone to Cisco anyway. Not that it did any good. Cisco’s eyes were open. Barry knew what it meant even before Joe searched frantically for a pulse.

No, no, no. He couldn’t be here. He took off, far too late to catch up with Wells, but maybe…

Maybe he’d be fast enough to go back in time. He hadn’t seen the same ghost-image that had forewarned the first event, but maybe he just hadn’t been paying attention. It could happen. He just had to run. Fast.

By the time he stopped, falling to his knees and gasping for breath, he had no idea what time it was or what state he was in, but he knew that Cisco was still dead.

 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words scraping against his throat on their way out. “I’m sorry,” he said, again, because he felt like he could say it a hundred times and it wouldn’t even begin to be enough.

“It’s not your fault.” Caitlin kept her eyes on the computer screen as she spoke softly, didn’t look up at him. “I don’t blame you,” she lied.

Barry let her.

 

 

If Harrison Wells had a way back, a way to fix his family and Cisco and every other shitty thing that had happened because his life had been changed fifteen years ago, then Barry would take it. He wouldn’t even ask about the chances that it would work, or why Dr. Wells had to do it this way instead of just asking him for help months ago.

“Tell me what to do.”

He didn't mention, when the plan was explained, his recent miraculous failure at time travel: the hundreds of times he'd run until his muscles burned and his feet ached, and still he hadn't been able to correct what had gone horribly wrong that night at STAR labs. If even something recent was outside his reach, could he really go back more than a decade?

Yes, he decided. He could, because he had to. He let Wells out of his prison.

Not everyone was on board with this plan. Joe insisted on being there to watch, in case Wells was up to something more than he said. Iris held her fiance's hand tight as Barry took his place in the bones of the accelerator. Caitlin’s voice wavered in his ear, and it sounded wrong. It sounded wrong for it to be her voice over the comm at all.

Barry ran because that was what he needed to do to fix this: faster and faster until he heard Caitlin say he’d passed Mach 2. He tried his best to breathe steadily and keep his pace, feeling around for the connection he’d felt the first night he’d traveled to a different time.

“You’re seeing the Speed Force,” Wells said, so out of place in the blur the world had become that it felt like he was speaking an inch from Barry’s head. “Your past, your present, your future, all at once.”

But he wasn’t. He didn’t see anything except the rushing walls, molded together into an endless gray passageway. He couldn’t feel anything reaching for him, no matter how hard he pulled.

“You need to focus on where you want to go. Think about that night.”

Barry tried to remember the smile on his father’s face, the cadence of his mother’s ‘good night,’ but they kept slipping away into the bottomless pit of panic. _I have to get back I have to get back I have to fix this fix everything because if I don’t—_

He should have broken every bone in his body when he hit the wall, but he didn’t. Maybe he hadn’t been going as fast as he’d thought. “I can’t,” he panted, shocked by the words as much as the pain shooting up his chest. “I can’t,” he said, because nothing mattered more than that fact. Nothing was as devastating.

Dr. Wells was saying something, probably yelling something, but Barry didn’t listen. He didn’t even look up until Wells was right in front of him, an indeterminate number of seconds later. He didn’t really care when he was lifted up by the collar of his suit. It didn’t matter.

“You will try again,” Wells snarled. “You will get me back to my world, or I will _burn yours down around you_.”

Barry let the threats wash over him, the lists of what Wells would do to one person after another, let the blood trickle down his neck from how hard fingernails were dug into his skin. He didn’t look up until he heard the gunshot, until he saw Eddie on the ground and Wells’ face dissolving into another’s, and then into nothing at all.

“No!” he screamed, and leapt. Not for Eddie, but for Wells, and the last chance he had at going back to fix everything. (He thought later that this was the moment when Iris started to hate him.)

Every molecule that had been the Reverse-Flash glowed bright as it floated away, then vanished into the air. Barry stood in the fading mist, grasping at it desperately. He felt a bolt of electricity flow through him as the last of the light went out, like a burst of energy that the universe couldn’t destroy.

Like being struck by lightning all over again.

 

 

Caitlin and Ronnie left the city. Barry expected an explanation, a speech about how they had each other again, unbelievably, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage of that. It didn’t come. Caitlin either found it too hard to say goodbye, Barry guessed, or she didn’t think he deserved it.

With STAR labs left empty, no one was around to watch Barry zip through the halls, marvelling at how much easier it came than it had before, even though that had felt like peak performance. No one was there to record it when he hit Mach 3 in the accelerator. No one was with him when he got a letter from a lawyer, who’d finally gotten around to processing the will that had kicked in when Wells was declared legally dead.

No one saw him collapse at the video message that had been left for him since January (he’d checked): the confession he’d done anything and everything to get. The one Cisco had died for. It would have come to him anyway, if Joe had shot Wells in the chest.

“You’ll never be truly happy, Barry Allen,” said the ghost of Dr. Wells, and Barry believed him.

 

 

Dealing with the criminals of Central City, even those with powers, was easier than it had ever been. It didn’t matter that he’d lost his backup team; he was fast enough now that he hardly ever needed more than a minute to deal with any given situation. And with so few people around him, close to him, who still moved at normal speed, there was less and less need to slow down at all.

Wells had given this to him somehow, he knew it, at the moment when he vanished from existence. It was a second chance to get faster, to improve until he could break whatever was holding him back and return to the night when everything went wrong. Even if he couldn’t feel the natural flow of time anymore, eventually he’d be quick enough to make it move the way he wanted it to, anyway.

Maybe criminals were easy, he thought, but they weren’t what he needed; none of them could challenge him anymore. He needed speedsters.

 

The city wanted him back, but he didn’t need it. He didn’t even really need an apartment anymore. It was easier to keep moving; it kept him in shape.

He turned in his resignation at the CCPD lab. He didn’t bother telling Joe he was moving out. He hadn’t been around much, anyway.

 

 

Science had started this reaction in his body, so in theory, it should be able to speed it up, too. Whenever he passed back through Central City, Barry stopped at STAR labs, trying to work out a way to make it work for him.

The only time he let himself miss his friends these days was when he was throwing out solution after useless solution. What he wouldn’t have given for Cisco’s tech, or Caitlin’s bioengineering skills. Chemistry could only take him so far, and he didn’t have anyone to review his work and add their own ideas.

Sometimes he thought he was getting a little faster, but it was nothing compared to the burst he’d gotten from Wells, nothing worth the hours and hours of work that could be spent running.

 

 

It was two years later when he found another meta who could run hundreds of miles per hour. Not as impressive as it used to be, but nothing to scoff at. He wondered how she’d gotten that power, since she’d never even been to the United States, but ultimately dismissed the question. It was easy to catch up with her.

She asked him what he wanted, but he didn’t bother to answer. He focused, searching for the thing he’d felt from Wells so long ago. When he felt the spark, he reached out and snatched it up, drawing it greedily inside himself. He sighed. There it was: lightning.

He opened his eyes and found he really had reached out. His hand was bruised and the woman was lying motionless on the ground. But when he sped away, it was faster than he’d ever moved before.

 

 

It didn’t feel right to wear his old suit anymore; he couldn’t stand the sight of all that red.

 

 

He cursed whatever it was that made it so easy for him to steal someone else’s speed but stopped him from using it properly. He still couldn’t go back in time, though he tried every day. What was blocking him?

He just had to get faster, he told himself.

 

 

The black material clung to his skin, he’d worn it for so long. It felt almost like it _was_ his skin, now.

But he would shed it, however many layers he needed to peel off, when he finally went back and fixed it all. He’d tear himself down to white and red and be fresh. New.

 

He’d make the world new, when he was fast enough.

 

 

 

He still wasn’t fast enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He found another speedster in South Korea. He still wasn’t fast enough.

 

 

 

 

 

_He still wasn’t fast enough._

 

 

 

Cisco sat bolt upright in bed, breathing hard. The voice still echoed in his head, grating and distorted. _Not fast enough_ , it echoed. He shuddered, and glanced to the right side of the bed.

Barry slept like a log, most nights. He also talked in his sleep, which was bound to get him in trouble one day, and had a tendency to steal the covers, but all that mattered right now was that he was still there, and still asleep. Cisco watched him breathe in and out, a little faster than the average human, as he had been the entire time Cisco had known him.

This was Barry, Cisco reminded himself. He’d been getting vibes long enough to know now what was a dream and what was real, but whatever that thing was, whereever it was (because it _was_ , somewhere or other), it wasn’t Barry. Not here, and not even on Earth 2 (because the Dr. Wells of Earth 2 had never been Eobard Thawne).

Barry turned over in his sleep, one hand coming up to grasp at Cisco’s hip, and he tensed. _No_ , he told himself, forcing his body to relax a second later. _Stop that_. It wasn’t him.

He’d held Wells responsible for murdering him in another timeline, but this was different. Somehow. It had to be. This wasn’t a split-second decision that Wells had admitted himself he might make again; this was a long pathway that would never even start, because Cisco wasn’t dead, Caitlin wasn’t gone, and Barry actually cared. There must have been something fundamentally different about whatever dimension that was, because it could never happen here.

Settling slowly back down into bed, Cisco curled into Barry, reassuring himself with the constant warmth Barry always radiated at night. He wrapped a hand around Barry’s arm, still just regular, human skin. He closed his eyes.

“I hope you remember that he allowed this to happen,” the Wells of that world had said, looking right into his eyes. But then he’d killed a moment later, so why had he asked him to remember? Had he known, somehow, that Cisco would hear it anyway?

As much as he hated to follow even one more of Wells’ instructions, Cisco knew he wouldn’t be able to help it. He couldn’t forget this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence (semi-descriptive), major character death (sort of? technically)


	17. Day 17: Unrequited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to note that, while 'unrequited' is usually followed by the word 'love,' it can also apply to other things too. 'Trust,' for instance. (Or, in which I was feeling kind of down about that last drabble and wanted to write a continuation, of sorts.)

Barry yawned so heavily that his eyes scrunched closed, obscuring his vision of the screen in front of him. Not that it mattered, since he’d read this paper on black holes at least twice before. They were running out of research that could conceivably help them figure out how to close the breaches, but trying desperately not to acknowledge it.

Tonight, though, he’d have to admit defeat. “That’s it for me,” he sighed, pushing himself back from the desk and blinking rapidly. “I’m gonna fall asleep in about ten minutes, no matter where I am.”

“...mmhuh?” Caitlin lifted her head from her arms at his voice. “Bed?”

“Bed,” Barry agreed. “Cis? Bed?”

Cisco was the only one still putting actual effort into the project, tonight. That probably had something to do with the several cups of coffee he’d had today, and every day, recently. He didn’t look up from the tablet that, by now, must have held endless rows of equations. “I’m gonna keep at it for another hour. Think I’m getting somewhere.”

Barry groaned. He could almost guarantee that Cisco _wasn’t_ , but that wasn’t the greater issue. “C’mon, I’m tired. We can come back to it tomorrow.”

Cisco waved him off and continued to tap at the tablet. “You go ahead. I’ll lock up.”

Frowning now, Barry straightened up fully from where he’d been slumped over the chair. “We didn’t drive in this morning,” he reminded Cisco. “I’m your ride home.”

“So I’ll walk. It’s not that far.”

“It’s like… half an hour.”

“So I’ll get some fresh air. Geeks like me always need fresh air.”

Barry officially gave up. “Fine. Caitlin, you want a ride?”

“Maybe just walk me out to my car,” she mumbled, staggering to her feet. “Oof, okay, I think I’ll be sleeping in tomorrow.” Barry patted her arm and let his hand hover there for the first few steps, just to make sure she had her balance.

The parking lot was empty, and the apartment would be empty too, Barry knew, because Cisco was being stubborn. “Are you gonna be able to drive home okay?” he asked when they reach Caitlin’s car.

“I think the cold air woke me up,” she replied, burrowing into her coat. “I’ll be alright. You headed home, or are you going to wait for Cisco?”

Barry scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes. “Home.” There was no point waiting for Cisco, really. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if Cisco went all the way and just slept on the cot in STAR labs again, like he’d done twice last week. Barry would call him and remind him to try to make it back to their apartment, if he didn’t know that would just make it more likely Cisco wouldn’t.

Caitlin yawned. “It’s a shame it’s so late. You two seem like you could really use a night in.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you seem all tense lately, with all the work we’ve been putting in.” Caitlin shrugged, fiddling with her keys to find the one that would unlock her car. “None of us are exactly in the best place for healthy relationships, but you two usually manage to pull it off. Maybe you should take a break, stay in tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” Barry agreed, but he knew they wouldn’t. It wasn’t the stress of the work that was getting to them; it was Cisco’s visions. He still wouldn’t talk about exactly what he’d seen — all Barry knew was that somewhere, in some universe they would hopefully never come in contact with, his alternate self had done something that made Cisco unable to look him in the eye.

He’d been doing his best to course-correct, to be exactly the opposite of whatever Cisco had seen, but it was a hard trick to pull off when he didn’t know what he was trying to avoid. Cisco had sworn that his vision had no impact on their world, or even on Earth-2, but if they didn’t get back to normal soon, Barry was calling bullshit. Ruining their relationship _definitely_ counted as impact.

Maybe Caitlin was right, Barry thought as he ran home. Maybe they did need a night in.

 

 

By the time Barry heard a key turning in the lock, it was nearly two in the morning, and he’d been about fifteen minutes away from just running back to STAR and dragging Cisco home, whether he wanted to go or not. “Hey,” Barry said softly, and Cisco jumped, clearly not having expected Barry to still be awake. He did his best to smile, anyway.

“Hey. Thought you’d be in bed. Aren’t you tired?”

Barry shrugged. “Sure, but if we’re going to sleep in tomorrow, it doesn’t really matter how tired we get. We can just make up for it in the morning.”

“We’re sleeping in?” Cisco tossed his keys onto the kitchen table, stripping off his jacket with an air of weariness that almost made Barry second-guess his plan. Still, it wasn’t like it required much movement.

“I think Caitlin had the right idea. We should just take tomorrow off,” Barry said, with a tone of finality. Neither of them were expected in at the station, and everything they did at STAR labs was technically voluntary. “I’ve got popcorn,” he offered, holding up the bowl and waving it temptingly.

Cisco considered that. “Caramel?”

“‘Course.”

“Okay, then.” Cisco walked over and plunked himself down on the couch. Sighing in relief that it had been so easy, Barry sat next to him, trying to ignore the brief flinch before Cisco consciously forced himself to relax. It was alright, he reminded himself. They were working on it.

It was too late at night and too long of a week to watch anything where they would have to pay attention to the plot, so that ruled out any shows they’d been working their way through. Instead, Barry turned on ‘Spirited Away,’ a film they’d watched enough times before that it had entered the category of comfort movie. The visuals were fantastic, and the world was entrancing enough that he hoped it would both pull them out of their crappy state of mind.

They watched Chihiro navigate her way through a world of spirits, and around the time she cleaned off the river spirit at the bathhouse, Cisco let out a deep breath and sank into his side. Barry put a careful arm around his shoulders, and Cisco just relaxed into it. “Hi,” Barry whispered, trying not to break whatever mood they’d entered.

“Hi,” Cisco repeated, and sighed. “I’m sorry. None of this is fair to you.”

“There aren’t exactly rules for this,” Barry said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Cisco’s statement. “I think we need some time to figure it out. I remember how weird it was when Harry came around.”

Cisco laughed a little. “This is different.”

God, Barry _hoped_ it was different. He should have been the only one to remember what had happened to Cisco in that alternate timeline, but instead he’d had no clue until Cisco had described it to him, and then he’d been glad he’d never had to witness it. He had to be careful, here; he knew Cisco didn’t want to talk about this. “Different how?”

“The thing with Wells actually _happened_ ,” Cisco said, staring at the screen where Chihiro sat on an open porch to watch the sunrise. “I mean, sort of. He told me himself he wasn’t sorry about it; he would have done it again if he had to. But this… You could never be like that. I shouldn’t be blaming you for something you’ll never do.”

 _I wouldn’t_ , Barry thought. _Whatever it is, I would never._ An awful thought occurred to Barry, something that he logically should have considered before, but hadn’t wanted to, and his heart jumped up into his throat. “Did I… Did I hurt you? In your vision?”

“It wasn’t you,” Cisco said immediately, automatically.

“Did _he_ hurt you, then?” Barry corrected. He could feel his grip on Cisco starting to tighten, and forced himself to relax, because that wouldn’t make him any more comfortable. _Calm down_ , he told himself. He couldn’t possibly protect his boyfriend from something that would never happen to him.

Cisco hesitated. “No.”

It sounded like the truth, but not all of it. For the first time, Barry found himself agreeing with Cisco: maybe he really _didn’t_ want to know what he had seen.

“If you need time, I get that. Just tell me what I can do to help.”

Cisco wrapped an arm around Barry’s stomach. “This,” he said. “This helps.”

“Okay. Then we’ll keep doing it.” The movie had moved on to No-Face, devouring food and spirits, which wasn’t an entirely pleasant sight, but still comforting in that familiar way. Barry settled in to watch the rest of the movie, or at least most of it. If they fell asleep on the couch, it was no big deal. This was one of the most comfortable pieces of furniture Bary had ever sat on, and he had a feeling Cisco had picked it out for the specific purpose of late-night marathons.

“I trust you,” Cisco said softly, before turning his attention entirely back to the movie.

Barry didn’t think that was entirely true, but maybe soon, it would be. He could wait it out a little longer. It wasn’t like they didn’t have enough movies.

 


	18. Day 18: Coffee Shop AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah coffee shop AU. Hell yeah.

The way it happened was, Cisco was just sitting calmly in Jitters, sipping the coffee that had been served to him by a staggeringly cute barista and going over some technical blueprints on his phone, when an entire _wall_ of muscle came crashing in through the front window. Crap, and he’d been having such a nice day.

He dived under the table to escape the flying debris, clutching his bag to his chest. His suit was in that bag, and it looked like he’d definitely be needing it. As soon as the glass stopped flying, Cisco peeked back up over the edge of the table. Muscle Dude was standing just inside the building, all eight and a half feet of him, breathing so hard his whole body moved with it.

Scanning the room, Cisco was relieved to see that no one was lying on the ground unconscious or worse, just yet, and most of the patrons seemed to be finding their way toward the back door. There were a few people who’d been sitting at the front, though, who were clutching various injuries and not looking to be in any shape to run away. He’d have to get to them soon; he didn’t know what this guy wanted, but he looked more like a giant pile of aggression than a person with any directed purpose.

Cisco also saw, with a momentary rush of anxiety, that the barista he’d been flirting with earlier was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’d been on break, or he’d been one of the first ones out the back door. As long as he wasn’t passed out behind the counter, Cisco would take it.

He crawled out from under the table, making his way around the edge of the room without drawing attention to himself. He’d like to run into the back and find an empty spot to put his suit on, but if he did that, Muscle Dude might turn on the people who were still in front, and he couldn’t be sure he’d be quick enough. Which meant he’d have to hold off on actually fighting this guy, for now.

Muscle Dude turned around just as he was nearly to the closest civilian and his eyes narrowed, like he’d spotted a target. Great. Maybe he’d have to say ‘screw the costume’ and bust out a couple of sonic waves after all. His secret identity wouldn’t do him any good if he was a ground-up puddle on the floor. Just as he was readying himself, someone else jumped in through the broken window.

‘ _There can’t be more of them _,’ Cisco thought desperately, but then he caught sight of the red suit and grinned. Oh, good, the Flash was here.__

“Hey, guy,” Flash said, tapping Muscle Dude on the back until he turned around. “Oh, boy.”

Cisco left him to it and crossed the last few feet toward a girl who was putting pressure on a bleeding gash and huddling against one of the still-intact windows. He no longer bothered to be stealthy, since the bad guy was pretty well distracted. “Hey.” He tapped her on the shoulder. “Can you walk?”

She nodded, shell-shocked.

“Good.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Out the back. Better go now, before this thing kicks up another notch.”

“But he’s—”

“The Flash can handle it.” He winced as, just after he’d said it, Flash went flying clear across the room. “Really. I promise. Come on.”

He pulled her to her feet and pointed her in the direction of the door, then turned to the next person crouched by the door. By coffee-drinker number 3, they were all getting the picture, darting out around the edges of the fight and running for the door. Cisco helped the final man to his feet, supporting him so he wouldn’t have to put too much weight on what was probably a broken leg.

Cisco turned to the Flash, currently trying to lure Muscle Dude away from where he’d wandered toward the limping, retreating civilians. He opened his mouth, ready to say that everyone was clear and he’d be back in a minute, but then shut it again. Flash wouldn’t recognize him, not yet.

After he’d walked the injured guy outside and darted into the back room for a quick change, though, the Flash definitely knew who he was. “ _There_ you are. Took you long enough.”

“Well it’s not like you sent me a text,” Cisco-as-Vibe replied, trying to pretend like he hadn’t actually been there the whole time.

“Little busy here.” Flash gestured to Muscle Dude, who was picking himself up from where Flash had managed to send him crashing to the floor.

Cisco sent out a quick sonic wave, unbalancing him so he fell down again. “Your power is literally super-speed,” he pointed out. “Since when do you not have time to type out three words on your phone?”

“Well, you’re here anyway, aren’t you?”

“Lucky for you, my visions don’t take a day off.” Well, they kind of did, but he’d ended up right where he needed to be anyway, so no harm done. “So what’s this guy’s deal? Besides tall, dark, and angry?”

Muscle Dude worked his way to his feet once more and roared, honest-to-shit _roared_ at them. Cisco considered that he may have even less of a thought process than he’d originally thought.

“He’s strong and he doesn’t stay down,” Flash said. “That’s about all I’ve got.”

Well, it was a start. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

They’d worked together a lot, more and more lately, especially since the holes to another world had popped up all over the city. Collaboration had been kind of essential, what with Cisco having visions of the breachers whenever they crossed over and the fact that they all seemed to have some personal grudge against the Flash. Anyway, by now, they knew how to move around each other.

“On your left,” Flash said, zipping by, and Cisco turned to blast the chair that had been thrown at him out of the air. With his other hand, he shot a pulse at the floor under Muscle Dude’s feet, and they sank into the hole that formed, getting caught among the broken floorboards. Cisco winced. His favorite coffee shop was gonna be _wrecked_ after this. How was he ever going to flirt with the cute guy behind the counter if this place went out of business? “Vibe! Move back!”

Oh, crap, he hadn’t been paying attention. He stepped back, realizing Flash was gearing up to do his lightning thing, which seemed like a good idea, since every other blow didn’t seem to do a lick of damage. They’d just have to deal with the property damage; it was a better bet than pulling this guy onto the streets where he could grab at cars or random civilians passing by.

There was a shout and a bolt of lightning emerged from the blurry circle that the Flash had become, which was cool every time, really. It hit Muscle Dude square in the chest, and he collapsed backwards with another loud roar. His chest was smoking.

Cisco walked up to view the damage. “Nice one,” he said, and then Muscle Dude stirred.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Flash groaned. Cisco knew the feeling. What the hell was going to be _stronger_ than a bolt of lightning to the chest?

“Would you just _stay down_.” Taking a step in front of the Flash so he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire, Cisco sent out a wall of vibrations, designed to mimic a high-pitched siren when they came in contact with human(ish) ears. If they couldn’t put this guy down with physical force, maybe they could just annoy him into unconsciousness.

To Cisco’s surprise, Muscle Dude immediately flinched, putting his hands over his ears and roaring in protest. Wow, he hadn’t expected it to work _that_ well.

“Keep doing that,” Flash said easily, which, no duh. Muscle Dude was curling in on himself to get away from the noise; it almost looked like he was shrinking. Or, wait, was he actually shrinking? The Flash took a step forward.

“Whoa, hey, you wanna blow out your eardrums?”

“Relax.” The Flash waved a couple of tiny rubber balls in his hand. “I got earplugs after last time. High-tech earplugs. They should do the trick. Just keep at him.” He pulled his mask away from his ears just a little to put them in place, and marched easily into the line of fire.

With the disruption of the audio attack, Muscle Dude was a lot most susceptible to getting knocked out. It didn’t take long at all, in fact, and then, yeah, he was definitely shrinking. Within a minute of unconsciousness, Muscle Dude had turned into Regular-Sized Dude, still with hardly a bruise on his body. Freaky.

“Finally,” Cisco sighed. “Do you wanna cart him off to jail?” Flash ignored him, still staring down at the unconscious criminal. “Flash. Hey!” No response. Annoyed, Cisco flicked a finger and sent a tiny pulse his way, knocking gently (well, mostly gently) into his arm.

Flash looked up, surprised. “What? I— Oh.” He reached up and pulled out his earplugs. Oh, yeah. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Jail?” Cisco repeated. “I don’t think he really fits the decor.”

“Oh, right! Sure, I’ll take him. I’ve gotta get back to— Uh…” He trailed off.

“Yeah, me too.”

As soon as he’d changed back into his regular clothes, Cisco ducked around back. Most of the people had moved off by now, but the staff had clustered against the next building, checking on the ones who’d gotten hurt. Cisco scanned the crowd, but the cute barista (he really had to learn that guy’s name) wasn’t among them.

Just as he was starting to worry, the guy appeared, racing around the corner and breathing hard. “Sorry,” he panted. “Couldn’t get a signal. I had to go like six blocks to call 911.”

“We should call them back, tell them the guy’s gone,” Cisco said. “They’ll have to go through the whole police-and-firemen routine if they think it’s still dangerous, instead of just sending EMTs.”

“But I alrea— Right. Because he was still here when I left. I will call them.”

“Use my phone.” Cisco held it out, waving it a little when the guy didn’t take it immediately. “You said yours doesn’t have service. Mine does. You can use it here.”

“Right,” the guy said again. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Sure. I’m fine.”

“Because you were right near the front when that guy came in.”

Cisco grinned. “You were watching me, huh?”

The guy blushed. “Uh, I have to… Make that call.”

He wandered away from the group a little, dialing. Cisco watched him go. Then, because it was just inappropriate to stare at someone’s butt while someone else was bleeding right next to you, Cisco knelt down to help hold a dishtowel to a man’s arm.

He must have somehow looked really damn enticing while doing that, because when the guy handed the phone back, there was a new number programmed in. And a name.

Hell yeah.

 


	19. Day 19: Blind Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey apparently I'm really enjoying this verse so have another drabble in the FlashVibe-costumed-vigilantes AU from yesterday. We're going back to their rather, er, _explosive_ first meeting. Also, fair warning, I have written another fight scene here, because I don't know how to play to my strengths.

“I’m serious, just give it a chance!”

“Can we not do this _now_ , Frost?” Cisco peeked over the row of crates they were crouched behind, but no one had shown up yet. “And I don’t need a partner,” he hissed, unable to stop himself.

Killer Frost — or Caitlin, if they were out of costume, but right now they were waiting on some mobsters to arrive for a big arms deal, so codenames were a must — frowned. “Firestorm and I are leaving town in two weeks,” she reminded him, as if he could possibly have forgotten. “I don’t want to leave you knowing you don’t have anyone to watch your back.”

“I can actually do this job by myself, you know,” he said grumpily. “I’ve been known to take down a criminal or two, and anyway you’ll only be gone for six months.”

“You’ve called me for backup forty-two times in the last six months.”

“Oh, like you haven’t called me twice as often.” He spread his arms to indicate his presence here, a scene to which Frost had summoned him after she’d gotten wind of the deal about to go down.

“And you always come,” she said with a grateful smile, “which is why I want to introduce you to this guy. He could use some help too, you know. Someone he can count on. Lately, he’s been kind of—”

“Shhh!” Frost looked briefly offended at being shushed, but realized a moment later that he must have heard something, and leaned up to see over the crates. “Show time,” Cisco murmured, as the men finally started to arrive on-scene.

After they got just enough of the deal on video for the police to use later, they made short work of the men. Their powers didn’t complement each other quite as well as Frost and Firestorm’s did, but they’d been working together long enough that it didn’t really matter. Plus, it was always helpful to have someone who could just freeze the bad guy’s guns so they wouldn’t be able to shoot.

Standing over the unconscious criminals, Cisco reflected on how much harder that would have been with just him. Sure, he probably could’ve done it, but why risk getting shot when you didn’t have to? He sighed. “Okay,” he said, and Frost looked up from dialing the police to come and collect. “Okay, set it up. I’ll meet him. But no promises.”

 

 

Later that night, tired and a little sore where the butt of a gun had been smashed into his side, Cisco fumbled through his backpack for the key to his apartment. The door on the other side of the hallway opened.

“Hey, Cis. Doing alright?”

The question came from Ronnie, who actually knew what Cisco had been up to tonight, and who probably wanted a real answer. Still, the bruise on Cisco’s ribs was nothing compared to: “Did you know your girlfriend’s trying to set me up with—” The elevator dinged and a woman stepped out, making her way down the hall with her eyes on the mail. “Uh, with a blind date?” Cisco finished, going for the civilian-friendly translation.

Ronnie leaned back against the wall. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

“And?” If Ronnie told him to take it or leave it, that it was all Caitlin’s idea, then Cisco would meet the guy once (he’d promised, after all) and then leave without looking back.

Instead, Ronnie caught his eye with a stern look and told him, with no hesitation. “You need to do it.”

Damnit.

“Look, I know you, you had a rough time getting used to this in the first place, and you’ll just try to go it alone while we’re away instead of trying to find anything else that works. Please?” he added, with those big, puppy-dog eyes he did so well. “Don’t make us spend the whole time worrying about you.”

“Fine. I mean, I always told her yes,” Cisco admitted. He’d just been looking for an excuse to not put any stock in the meeting. But, if they were both going to be like this, then _fine_ , he’d give it a try.

“Good,” Ronnie said, and turned to go.

When he’d reached the elevator, Cisco turned away from glaring daggers at his back, and found the woman from before had yet to enter her apartment. She smiled at him sympathetically. “Sorry for overhearing. I know how it feels; some people just don’t get that your love life is, well, _yours_.”

Cisco shrugged. “Could be worse,” he said. “At least I know they’ll find me someone nice.”

 

 

‘ _Nope_ ,’ Cisco thought, about thirty seconds after meeting the Flash. ‘ _What were you thinking, Cait? This guy’s clearly an asshole._ ’

“No offense,” said the Flash, even though it was pretty clear he _did_ mean offense. Cisco rolled his eyes. “It’s just that, with my speed thing, I kinda move faster than everyone else. It’s just easier for me to be a solo act.”

“That’s bull,” Cisco shot back. “I know you’ve worked with Firestorm before, and the Arrow.”

“Those were special occasions. And they knew what they were getting into.”

Now Cisco was pissed. Okay, sure, he hadn’t exactly been excited about this either, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be casually tossed aside as not good enough. “Oh, so you don’t think I can keep up, is that it?”

“Dude, no one can.” The Flash held out his arms on either side. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

“I meant metaphorically,” Cisco snapped. “Why d’you think Frost set this up if she didn’t think we could work together?”

Flash glared at him. “Because she’s so concerned about what could happen while she’s away, she forgot that working with me is _more_ dangerous than working alone. I get people killed, Vibe. You’re better off without me.”

Oh, God, he was one of _those_ heroes. The woe-is-me, I-break-everything-I-touch type. It was like the terrible twos, everyone had to go through the stage at some time or other. Some of them worked through it with a reasonable speed (Cisco was pretty proud that he’d managed to contain his within three months), while others got stuck and just never left it behind. Flash was probably the latter type. It figured.

“Alright, fine,” he snapped, because there was no point in arguing with an attitude like that. “You do your broody solo thing; I’ll go back and tell Frost that you wimped out and she’ll just have to deal with worrying about both of us while she’s out of town.”

“Hey, don’t pin this on me!” Flash said angrily. “She’ll get all pissed, and there’s a reason she and I don’t work together professionally. I’m not gonna spend another week thawing out my toes.”

“Oh, see, I thought the reason you two didn’t work together professionally was that you’re just so _dangerous_ ,” Cisco mocked. He went to push past Flash. “I’m going.”

The Flash pushed back. “No, wait—”

“Get _off_ me,” Cisco snapped, and he hadn’t meant to, but he wasn’t exactly _sorry_ when a small shockwave burst out with it. “Fuck, just—”

But Flash recovered quickly, and darted in to shove Cisco to the side, hitting right where the bruise was from last night’s escapades. Okay, not cool, even if there was technically no way he could’ve known it was there.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Cisco smirked as the Flash sank into a stance. Okay, then. He’d show this guy exactly how well he could keep up.

The Flash moved first, of course. Even though he was waiting for it, it still caught Cisco off-guard, and he tumbled to the floor. Flash slowed down, wandering cockily in his direction. He raised himself up on one elbow and shot a blast back, and then the Flash was on the floor too, on the other side of the room. Cisco picked himself up.

This time, when the Flash came running at him, Cisco was more prepared. He didn’t try to aim for such a rapidly-moving target, and instead just sent a shockwave across the floor between the two of them. Flash’s feet caught on the distortion, and Cisco stepped aside to watch him go flying, right into the defunct business logo on the wall of the warehouse. “Ha!” he laughed. “Ten points!”

He expected Flash to come at him a third time, but he didn’t see movement right away, and when the Flash stood up, his arms were full. Cisco realized he was holding a pile of tennis balls (left behind from when this had been a functional factory, no doubt) a second before it was too late, and dived left into a roll to avoid the first of the projectiles. When he came to a stop, he raised his hands and shielded himself with a wall of vibrations. Tennis balls continued to pelt against it only to be repelled backwards.

There was a brief pause, but Cisco didn’t lower the shield right away, in case Flash was just grabbing more ammo. He was caught off-guard by the ball that hit him from the side; the Flash must have dashed around the edge of the room to throw it.

“Twenty points,” Flash yelled at him. He ran straight for Cisco again, but he’d learned from last time. When the sonic waves came across the floor, he jumped over them and plowed straight into Cisco, who went sailing toward the wall.

Before he could make impact, Cisco twisted himself so he could point his hands at the wall. He sent out a shockwave that cracked the plaster and propelled him back the way he came. He hit the Flash feet-first directly in the chest, and flipped off him to land neatly in a crouch.

When the Flash pushed himself up, Cisco could see sparks crackling in his eyes. He braced himself — they were close enough now that Flash could definitely get a hit in and Cisco didn’t have time to back up — but Flash just ran away.

Cisco understood what he was doing when he started running in circles a moment later, and rolled his eyes. When a guy pulled out the lightning trick as often as Flash did these days, and one that took several seconds to power up, too, it started getting predictable. Also: Flash was going to shoot _lightning_ at him. Cisco couldn’t tell if he was annoyed about the overkill or pleased that Flash thought he deserved such a hardcore attack.

Deciding it could wait until after he’d dealt with the impact, Cisco widened his stance for stability, readying a wide blast that would hopefully divert the worst of the blow. As soon as he saw a sustained patch of electricity (hard to tell, since there were sparks everywhere by now), he let it go.

There was a deafening _boom_ and a blinding flash, and Cisco was thrown backwards so hard he was pretty sure he might have blacked out for a moment or two.

When he could see anything besides patches of purple dancing in the blackness and the ringing in his ears had started to fade to a faint background shrill, Cisco pushed himself shakily to his feet, expecting to see the Flash standing over him and gloating. Instead, he had to search for a minute, blinking away spots, before he found Flash trying to sit up on the other side of the very large room. In between them was a smoking patch of floor.

Well, not floor. Not anymore. But it used to be.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, staggering toward the hole in the ground.

The Flash joined him a minute later, staring at the spot in disbelief. “That’s never happened before. Did we do that?”

Cisco laughed. “Thunder and lightning, man.” He went to rake a hand through his hair, remembered he was wearing his hood, and just let the hand rest atop his head instead. “Wow.”

“‘Wow’ is right,” the Flash said eagerly. “We _have_ to try that again. I wonder if we can get it to work without so much of a blow-back effect.”

Wincing, Cisco put a hand to his side. “Uh, I’m totally on board for more experiments, but maybe later? I think I need to go find an ice pack.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Flash hesitated, looking him over. “I guess… I could give you my number? Maybe I’ll call you if something comes up?”

“Maybe I’ll answer,” Cisco replied. “As long as you drop the asshole act and admit I can take care of myself.”

“No, I—” Flash looked back at the smoking hole, chuckling lightly. “I definitely believe that.”

“Alright, then. Toss me your hero-phone, I put my number in.”

Flash raised an eyebrow. “Hero-phone? I have _one_ phone, and I don’t carry it on me when I’m in the suit.”

“Aw, dude, no,” Cisco groaned. “How the hell do you even have a secret identity? How many people already know? No, don’t answer that,” he said, cutting off the Flash’s retort. “Look, I’ll whip you up something this weekend. Building tech is kind of my thing. In the meantime, we’re gonna have to go old-fashioned.” He dug into a pocket of his belt (it should have been a clue that Flash’s outfit was way too tight to even _have_ pockets) and pulled out a little notebook and a pen. He jotted down his number — his Vibe number, not his Cisco Ramon number — and ripped off the sheet handing it to the Flash.

Flash took it, holding it awkwardly in his hand like he didn’t know where to put it. Which, of course he didn’t, because he didn’t have pockets. Clearly, something would have to be done about that.

“Call me next week, probably from a payphone if you don’t want me to know who you are within ten minutes of that call.”

“You could just not look up my number,” Flash said.

“I have mad hacking skills and an insatiable curiosity. Trust me, you’re better off playing it safe.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Cisco replied, smiling. Maybe this guy wasn’t completely hopeless, after all.

 


	20. Day 20: Body Swap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third installment of FlashVibe-costumed-vigilantes AU, and the first mention of Barry's real name! *sarcastic cheering in the distance*
> 
> (Timeline-wise, for any of you about to call bullshit that Killer Frost is around in this, yes, it did take these goobers more than six months to get to the secret identity phase, so Caitlin and Ronnie are back in town and probably sighing every ten minutes.)

“This is so bad. This is so bad. This is the _worst_ ,” Vibe fretted, pacing frantically around the room and occasionally bumping into chairs. “Ow,” he complained.

“Stop battering my body,” said mostly-Barry Allen.

“I can’t help it! Your limbs are all…” Vibe waved them in demonstration, looking very disgruntled at the way the red-suited arms moved. “There’s so much of them.”

“Well, you’re not chopping any bits off, so we should probably focus on how to get ourselves switched _back_.”

Vibe flopped Barry’s body — no, Vibe’s body — no, Barry’s body, really, even if Vibe was in it right now — onto the chair he’d just tripped over and sighed. “I dunno, man. I mean, I’ll call Frost in, this seems more like her game than ours, but if I’m being really honest? It doesn’t feel like science at all. It feels more like magic.”

Barry didn’t want to consider the possibility. He hated that it even _was_ a possibility, but given the mess with Hawkgirl a couple months ago, it couldn’t be ruled out. “Call Frost,” he said. He’d reserve all other judgement until later.

 

 

By the time Killer Frost actually showed up, they’d worked quickly through the anger and depression and blown straight through to exuberant acceptance.

“Man, this is _so_ much cooler than you make it look. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Barry marveled, hands held out to feel the vibrations through the air. “It’s really fast.”

“Hey, wanna see me go to China and back?” Vibe dashed away in a blur, and then he was back again, clutching a takeaway container and grinning. “Okay, so I just went to the Chinese place a couple blocks over, but _still_.”

Frost cleared her throat, jerking their attention in her direction. “I was told you needed help?”

Yes, yes they did, Barry reminded himself, as much fun as he was having with the whole ‘vibrations of the universe’ thing, and as amusing as it was to watch Vibe trip over his own feet, unused to moving so fast.

“Oh, man, I just heard all that in slow-motion,” Vibe moaned, clutching his head. “Shit, that’s disorienting. What did you say?”

Frost held up her stethoscope and gestured to the medical bed that was set up in one corner of Barry’s dedicated laboratory hide-out. Obligingly, Vibe walked over and hopped onto the bed. He fiddled with the suit, trying to figure out how to bare his chest so Frost could attach the sensors without removing the hood.

“Don’t bother,” Barry said. “The suit’s got sensors built in. It’s just easier that way.”

“But I will need you to roll up the sleeve for a minute,” Frost told him. “I want to take some blood. And, where did he touch you?”

“My arm,” Vibe said, then glanced down at said arm and found it covered in fabric. “No, wait…”

“Right here.” Barry tapped his cheek — Vibe’s cheek — where the dude in the cloak had brushed his fingers against Barry’s skin.

“I’ll take skin samples from both places,” Frost decided. “Roll up the sleeve.”

She went about the tests with great efficiency, taking a swab from inside Vibe’s cheek as well, and it was almost Barry’s turn when he found himself shifting uncomfortably. “Dude, what’s up with you?” Vibe asked when he noticed.

“Uh, I’ve got to, uh.” He made a vague, not very descriptive motion. “You know.”

Vibe made a confused expression. It looked weird, on Barry’s face. His confused look was a little different.

“I have to pee.”

“Oh.” Vibe’s expression cleared instantly. “Well, go on, then. I trust you not to get freaky with my junk in the men’s room.”

Barry stood awkwardly. “Right.”

Even so, he tried his best to get through the process as quickly as possible. When he came back out, Frost was standing just outside the door. “Did you save me a sample?”

Barry rolled his eyes and handed her the cup.

And so it went for the next couple of hours: Frost running tests on her samples and Barry and Vibe trying to figure out how to use each other’s powers. Barry accidentally broke some glassware with his new sonic waves, and Vibe kept jumping into speed-mode when he was talking to Frost, negating any usefulness of his opinion, but they did alright.

Finally, Frost pushed herself back from the computer displaying the latest results and sighed. “I think I agree with Vibe on this one,” she said. “There are irregularities, certainly, but nothing that points to how it happened or how to change it back. Your best bet is to find the guy who switched you in the first place and get him to fix it himself.”

Groaning, Barry let his head fall onto his hands.

“There’s some good news,” Frost continued. “He left some residue behind where he touched you, with a very distinct signature. I think Vibe and I can work something out to track him, but it would take a while. Unless you wanted to give it a try?”

“Uh, I appreciate the vote of confidence, and not that I suck at computers, but I think Vibe could probably get the program running faster.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Frost, tapping her temple when he still didn’t get it.

“No,” Vibe said immediately. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It took me a _long_ time to get used to the visions, much less figure out how to use them like I wanted. He doesn’t have any experience.”

Oh, okay, so that was what she’d been talking about. Maybe Barry should have figured that one out sooner, but in fairness, Vibe’s visions didn’t come out that often in the field. He mostly kept them to himself, citing them from time to time as the reason he’d shown up first at a crime scene or knew where to find a criminal’s hiding place. That could be pretty useful right now, actually.

“I’ll give it a try,” he offered.

Vibe turned disbelieving eyes on him. “We don’t even have anything of this guy’s to touch, and he _definitely_ can’t do it without direction.”

“We have you,” Frost pointed out. “His residue is still clinging to your skin.”

“Ugh.” Vibe’s face screwed up. “That sounds so nasty. Alright, fine, if you really want to, but I don’t think it’s going to work.”

Barry stood up and shook himself out, moving over to Vibe, who watched him warily.

“Just focus, and then relax,” he advised. “Let it come naturally; don’t try to fight it.”

“Check.” Barry stood in front of his own body, trying to figure out the best way to do this, and eventually decided the best bet was to go for the point of contact. He placed his hand on his cheek. Vibe’s cheek. Whatever.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus, tried to remember what the guy had looked like, how he’d moved. After a few seconds, he peeked open one eye.

“Is it working?”

“Try again,” Frost advised calmly.

“You don’t have to—”

“No, no, I got this.” He took another deep breath and closed his eyes again, trying to tap into whatever it was that normally sent Vibe his visions, not that he had any idea what it was.

“Seriously, it’s okay if you can’t—” As he spoke, Vibe reached up and put a hand on Barry’s arm, and the contact sparked something inside him. Barry’s eyes shot open, and he wasn’t in the same place he’d started.

_He was on the ground, and clutching his arm. When he twisted his head, he found blood pumping out around shards of glass stuck in his skin, reflecting the fluorescent lights. Something just out of sight was laughing, or growling, he couldn’t tell, but he raised his free hand and the air rippled as a shockwave flew off to the other side of the room, and then there was silence. He looked back down at the glass, thinking he had to get it out, he had to—_

Barry blinked, and he was back in the lab. He doubled over instantly, vomiting onto the floor. “Shit,” he heard from somewhere over him, in his own voice. “I knew this was a bad idea. Come on, sit down, take it easy.”

He let himself be led by the shoulders to a soft surface, and sank down onto it gratefully. He kept his eyes closed, feel disoriented enough without adding visuals to the mix. “I’m okay,” he said, which was only half-true, but that was enough for now. “Just need… to sit here for a minute.”

“Just keep breathing,” Vibe said, one hand resting between Barry’s shoulder blades. “In and out.”

“Shit,” Barry muttered. “That was— Is that what it’s like for you _all the time_?”

Vibe laughed. “Na, man. I told you, I’ve had lots of practice. It comes way easier now. Haven’t had a reaction like that since my second week in.” He patted Barry on the back.

“I didn’t even see anything useful,” Barry grumbled. “I don’t know what it was. I think it was yours. You ever get a bunch of glass stuck in your arm?”

“Yeah.” Vibe reached down to sort-of-Barry’s arm and traced a finger around a short, raised scar along the inside of the bicep. “Last year. That’s what you saw?” Barry nodded, and Vibe winced. “Sorry, man. That was kinda nasty.”

“You saw one of Vibe’s memories?” Frost broke in, sounding terribly interested. “That’s odd, I would have thought you would have seen something of your own, if not the man you were looking for. I mean, it’s your body you were touching. Maybe it’s the intent and the consciousness that—”

“Okay, Frost, no offense, but I think any theories about my powers would be better tested when I’m back in my own body,” Vibe said. “Speaking of which, you said something about a search pattern?”

“I did.” Frost stood up. “But I’m afraid I can’t devote my whole evening to it tonight. I have a prior engagement of the criminal-catching variety. I can come back in the morning?”

Grudgingly, Barry and Vibe agreed that this would be acceptable. When Frost was gone, Vibe checked the time and groaned. “Aw, crap, I had a date tonight. Guess I gotta call and cancel.”

“Me too. And I’ll have to look around, I think I’ve got an extra cot somewhere. Sorry, I know my suit is like, the _least_ comfortable thing to sleep in…

Vibe waved a hand, still focused on his phone. “Dude, no way is it gonna work that we stay in costume until we find this guy. I mean, it could take days. We should just bite the bullet and look.”

Barry froze. “Um.”

Vibe seemed to realize what he’d said a second later. “I mean— crap, sorry. I just meant, if _you_ want to take off the hood and goggles and everything to sleep, I’m totally cool with that. We’ve been working together for a while and I— But if you don’t want to do that, that’s totally fine, and I’ll be okay sleeping with the mask on, it’s no big deal.”

“No, its.” Barry took a deep breath. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Vibe raised an eyebrow. “You sure? ‘Cause that’s not exactly enthusiastic consent. You don’t have to be on board with this just because I blurted it out.”

“No, really, it’s fine,” Barry said, becoming more and more confident about the words with every moment. “Like you said, we _have_ been working together for a while. Maybe it’s fine we knew, anyway. I trust you.”

“You— Me too.” Vibe took a deep breath. “Okay, so, we’re doing this? Now?”

“No time like the present.”

Vibe reached up careful hands and started to peel off the mask.

Barry did the same, flipping the hood off to hang over his shoulders and pulling away the goggles with a sigh of relief (they really did start to cut into your face after a while). He realized, running his hand over his head, that Vibe had even longer hair than it had looked with the hood up. He must have pinned it back. Barry found the pins and took them out, shaking the hair out a little. He looked over and found his own, uncovered face staring back at him.

Vibe grinned. “Moment of truth?” He walked over to the bathroom and stepped inside to check in the mirror. Barry hung back a little, feeling the flutter of anxiety that signaled the moment he could not turn back from a decision, no matter how sure of it he was. There was a yelp from inside the bathroom.

“What?” he said quickly. “What’s wrong?” Did Vibe know him, somehow? Had he cut in front of him in line at the grocery store one time and now Vibe was going to hate him on principle?

“Oh, my God, we’re _morons_ ,” Vibe said, which really didn’t explain anything. Barry went into the bathroom and pushed his way in front of the mirror.

And stared into the face of his boyfriend.

He nearly choked. “Are you kidding me?” he said weakly. “Are you— We cannot be that thick.”

“We are,” Vibe — Cisco — moaned. “We really are. Holy crap, Barry we’ve been dating for _two months_.”

Vaguely, Barry was busy being grateful that they hadn’t gotten to the naked stage of their relationship yet. If he had somehow recognized his boyfriend and partner’s secret identity based on his _dick_ , he might have actually died of embarrassment.

“We’re not telling Frost,” Cisco continued. “She’d never let me live it down. Like, ever. If she asks, we’ve known since our second date. Speaking of which.” He glanced over at Barry. “I guess, technically, we don’t have to cancel.”

“You still want to go?”

“Why not?” Cisco shrugged. “It’s not like we’re gonna get anything else done, tonight.”

Barry shook his head. “Okay, then. Let’s go on the weirdest date ever.”

“That’s the life of a superhero, man. Sticking two of them together only makes it that much worse.”

“I dunno,” Barry said, grinning. “I think it’s twice as nice.”

Cisco started hitting him with a hand towel for that, until Barry reminded him that he was only hurting himself.

 


	21. Day 21: Social Media AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, excerpts from the 101 ways Barry and Cisco might have broken the internet

“Okay, now just throw the sheet up and run… No, no, that was too high, I could see your feet. Try again? Yes, okay, awesome! Got it!”

“Isn’t there going to be a blur?” Barry asked, moving around the table so he could see the computer screen.

“Sure, but if you break it down, you’re only in, like, two of the frames.” Cisco pointed them out. “I can cut those out of the video and no one’s gonna notice it unless they’re really, _really_ looking for it.” He hit play, and Barry watched himself throw the blanket up into the air, and then vanish before it came back down. He couldn’t see the jump in the footage.

He raised an eyebrow. “Cool. And we’re not at all worried this will compromise my secret identity because…?”

“Man have you seen some of the stuff people put out there even _before_ the metas were around? Trust me, you won’t stand out. They’ll just think it’s creative editing. No, to really make an impression, we’ll have to do something bigger. I’ve been working on the vibration thing, and I think I can get a television to turn on and off.”

“They’d just think someone is off to the side with a remote,” Barry pointed out.

Cisco grinned. “Not if we do it in Times Square, they won’t.”

 

 

>>>>WITCHCRAFT

>>>U can see him dive behind the sofa…

>>Na bro you’re just mad you missed your letter to Hogwarts

>this guy looks like a Hufflepuff, it’s in the eyes

 

 

“Damn. #Flash911 is blowing up!”

“How do you _pronounce_ the hashtag?” Barry shook his head and leaned over Cisco’s shoulder. “Any real hits?”

“Still going through them, but I don’t think so. It’ll calm down when people go back to the regular tags.” He scrolled through another page. “Hey, this one wants you to swing by their bachelorette party.”

“Sounds like a real emergency.”

Cisco shrugged. “Hey, you never know. I bet at least one of them would appreciate some resuscitation. Oh, wait, hold the phone. This one’s coming in from a department store. Could be a real thing.”

“Alright, I’ll head over there. But if they’re waiting to mob me and take photos or something, I’m blaming you and your dumb idea.”

“Just wait until you see the stuff they wrote under #SlowDownHottie.”

 

 

@TheRealFlash waited all night and you didn’t show up :((( where’s #Flash911 when you need him? #allthesingleladies left alone *sigh*

> @BeachDays91 please reserve the #Flash911 tag for emergencies only, thank you

 

 

Caitlin watched the boys changing into their suits with a small sigh. It was a pretty nice view, since even Barry had slowed down to match Cisco’s speed. The whole partnered superheros thing would take some adjustment and some major getting-used-to, but they were doing very well so far.

It was just such a shame that she couldn’t post pictures on that new twitter account Cisco had made for the Flash, but even only half-assembled, the costumes were easily identified and it wouldn’t take long for people to recognize the faces. She couldn’t spoil two secret identities in one go.

Well, she considered. Maybe if she just caught the chest area, and she posted it to her own private account…

 

 

>>D A M N who are these hotties?

>>Show us more, I have to know if they’ve got eyes to match

>>I like how this cuts off at the waist. Like. They COULD be naked, we don’t know…

 

 

Whatever it was Cisco had found on the internet that was making him laugh hysterically, it probably wasn’t a good thing. Still, Barry thought, better the devil you know. “Whatcha got there?”

“Did you know,” Cisco started, then collapsed into a fit of giggles before taking a few deep breaths and trying again. “Did you know, that people have started shipping the metas of this city?”

The news made Barry miss a step, and he corrected hastily with burning cheeks. Well. He should have seen this coming, he supposed. He knew how internet culture worked. He himself had written a few ill-fated Danny Phantom fanfics during high school, but he’d never really dived into RPF. He wasn’t eager to start now.

And yet, there was that morbid curiosity. “Who do they ship us with?”

Cisco grinned, and Barry could tell he’d been waiting for that question. “ _Your_ number one ship, my friend, is one Captain Cold.”

“What?” Barry yelped. “He’s a criminal!”

“To be fair, you don’t really work with that many heroes. There’s some for you and Oliver, too, but he’s just not around as much. Besides, Cold is getting better.”

“Slowly,” Barry grumbled. “Alright, so who do they want you to make out with?” If he was going to hear this, he was at least going to spread the pain around.

Cisco held up his hands. “Hey, I’m new to the scene. Plus I’m short, scrawny, and I’m not white. There’s a lot less circulating around for me. A couple for me and Lisa, after that time she hooked up with us last week on that snow monster thing, but I think I deserve those.”

He definitely did, Barry reflected, after all the flirting.

“And, well.” Cisco blushed, and Barry was immediately interested. After all the glee he’d displayed relating the rest of this, what was making him embarrassed? “Like I said, I haven’t been out there long, and I haven’t worked with many metas, so the pool’s a little small, and…” He cleared his throat. “Some people want the two of… us, together.”

“Oh, is that all.” Barry sighed and fell back into a chair, spinning it aimlessly. He’d kind of been hoping someone had picked up on the wild sexual tension from that time Hartley had blown back through town. “Makes sense, I guess. What are they saying about us?”

“They think we make a great team, and it’s cute when we have to protect each other.” Cisco made a face. “It’s a little less cute when you’re worried someone’s going to _die_ , but okay. And, oh.” He stopped scrolling, focused on a single point on the screen. “Uh, someone pointed out that with our powers, you know, the vibrations and everything, that we’d probably have awesome sex.”

Barry laughed. That sounded exactly like the fandom he remembered. Except, now that he thought about it…

He sat up straight, eyes wide. “We _would_ have really awesome sex.”

 

 

#I mean#Arrow’s got all those muscles#but with Cold they could get some ice-play going#and Vibe could probably turn his fingers into liVING VIBRATORS THERE’S LITERALLY NO WAY TO LOSE WHEN METAS ARE INVOLVED#girls of Central City I’m sorry but I think you’ve been outmatched#I need some air

 

 

Barry’s face twisted uncomfortably, turning away from the flashing cameras. “Someone’s going to get a clear shot and they’re going to figure us out,” he grumbled.

“That’s what the masks are for,” Cisco replied, tapping his.

“All those pictures posted and clumped together under the same hashtag? People can solve this stuff by like… the shape of your eyes, or something.”

“So don’t give them a clear shot. Vibrate your face, if you’re worried. You _know_ the only reason we got here in time to clear this mess up is because someone tweeted it right to you. Silent alarms only work if the place has one and actually thinks to use it.”

He was right, Barry knew, but it still felt too much like they were on display. Sooner or later, someone was going to learn something dangerous.

 

 

Vine: I Think I Made Him Jealous #FlashVibe #CentralCitySupers

*a distant shot of Vibe and the Flash standing over an unconscious man in a dark mask, with a waving girl in the foreground*

Girl: Hey, Vibe! Vibe! I love you!

Vibe: *laughs* I love you too!

Flash: *whacks Vibe’s arm* Hey!

Girl: Oh my God!

 

 

“Shit, Cis— Vibe!” Barry dashed over, more grateful than ever for his speed, to where Cisco lay on the ground. “Look at me,” Barry commanded, and amazingly, he did.

“Ow,” said Cisco, which was only a slight understatement, given how hard he’d been hit. “I’m… okay, dude. I think. Just got the wind knocked out of me. Maybe some bruises. I guess we can mark that one in the column of ‘doesn’t play nice with the other metas.’ Shame, I thought we had her on our side.”

Barry let out a deep breath. “As long as _you’re_ on my side,” he said, and before Cisco could roll his eyes, Barry planted a firm kiss on his lips. He pulled away a second later — because he was pretty sure the meta was gone, but not completely — standing to offer Cisco an arm up and a ride back to the lab for Caitlin’s medical attention. He was distracted by the sudden realization that there was a large crowd about twenty feet away.

They must have gathered when it looked like Cisco was really hurt. Most of them looked awestruck, and some of them were clasping their hands over their hearts. Which meant they saw…

Barry flushed and pulled Cisco quickly to his feet, then swung him up into his arms — there was a chorus of loud cooing from the audience — and took off for STAR labs.

 

 

_Breaking News: The Scarlet Speedster is Gay!_

>>AND Vibe!! What a day!

>>Vibe’s bi, man, didn’t you see him macking on that Glider chick?

 

_Central City’s First LGBTQ Superhero_

>>If Flash can come out to the whole city, then I can come out to my parents. Wish me luck!

 

_Is Vibe A Good Addition To This Town’s Vigilante Force? Or Is He A Negative Influence On Our Favorite Hero?_

>>Oh, sure, of course they’re gonna blame the brown guy for the Corruption of the Gay Agenda

>>*mockingly* won’t somebody please think of the children?!?!?!?!

 

_Bringing a New Meaning to the Term ‘Partners’_

>>is this the new ‘gal pals’?

 

 

BaronVonTrappp: All I’m sayin is they could probably keep that stuff to themselves, it’s unprofessional :/

>>>>All I’m sayin is you can probably keep this opinion to yourself, it’s obnoxious

>>>They give up all that time to help us out and you’re gonna tell them they can’t kiss once or twice on a job we don’t pay them for? Give me a break

>>This news is great for playing Spot-the-Homophobes

>Ugh

 

FlashVibeDaily: Canon, bitches!!!

>>>We did it!

>>omg I’m so happy I can’t believe it

>no words

 

 

@TheRealFlash @TheRealVibe congratulations!!

> @Maddie979@FlashFannatic I don’t think they really wanted everyone to know, maybe don’t bother them about it rn

 

@TheRealVibe so is he a good kisser? ;)

 

@TheRealFlash ur gay haha

> @Firelordactual STOP you’re not funny and there’s no reason to sent that shit their way

 

@TheRealFlash@TheRealVibe im so sorry for the negativity thats been going around, please only pay attention to the good stuff and stay with us, we love you

 

@TheRealFlash @TheRealVibe Thanks for being heroes in yet another way

 

@TheRealFlash@TheRealVibe <3

 

 

TheRealFlash posted 28 minutes ago:

Thank you for all the love and support that’s been sent our way. Me and @TheRealVibe are planning to stick around for a long while.

> TheRealVibe retweeted

 


End file.
